


Wookiee life debt

by Ikarus_vs_the_sun



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, MacWhump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 59
Words: 90,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22861564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ikarus_vs_the_sun/pseuds/Ikarus_vs_the_sun
Summary: Taking place some time after Mac found out about his father:Mac never left. He probably should have.Jack's not perfect, unfortunately. But honestly, everybody is a jerk at times, right?Bozer's fighting for his friend.Riley tries to smooth the waves and mend what was broken.James's being James.Matty actually does have feelings and does know how to comfort.Charlie's there too and maybe Frankie come's by to say goodbye, but that's not decided yet.Just a humble attempt, please bear with me.
Relationships: Angus MacGyver & Charlie Robinson (MacGyver TV 2016), Angus MacGyver & James MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Angus MacGyver & Matilda "Matty" Webber (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Riley Davis & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 138
Kudos: 143





	1. Prologue: a million pieces

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking a long time about this story and wasn't sure whether to write or even post it. Now, I decided to do it. It's just an attempt, so please bear with me.

Jack stood there, surrounded by an endless number of pieces scattered around him. He was trying to pick them up, all of them. He tried to collect all those endless millions of pieces. But he failed. Every time he thought he finally got them all, he would find another, tiny piece somewhere hidden in a dark corner. It didn’t matter how thoroughly he was checking. Each time there would be one piece eluding his grip. He then, in sheer fury and desperation, would throw all those pieces he had managed to collect away and when they had finally scattered around him once again, he would once again fall onto his knees and start collecting them for what felt a hundredth time. He was not yet ready to declare defeat. Life experience had taught him to recognise a lost cause when he saw one. This here was none. He was determined to collect all those pieces, this endless number of pieces and put them back together.


	2. Run through the jungle

They had known it wouldn’t be an easy mission. Nothing like a go in, retrieve a “whatever thing that was threatening to put hundreds of lives to death” and come back mission. But it hadn’t been the worst mission too. They were a well-functioning team. He and Mac had to spent years working together. They knew each other. Riley had smoothly integrated into their working-machine and now helped keeping the machine running. Bozer was still trying to find his place, but that didn’t make the engine sputter. He rather was a universal spare part. Whatever was needed, he would provide it and make the machine run. They were working like a well-oiled engine. But still. If one of this engine’s parts was dysfunctional, it affected the whole machine. It would start to sputter and lose speed. These were two things they couldn’t afford when being on a mission. The working-machine only performed if everybody was at one hundred percent or above. Less was not acceptable. Not even debatable. And they knew it. They all knew it. The risks for others and themselves if only one of them failed, because he or she was not capable of giving a one hundred and ten percent performance, were way too high. They all knew it, had heard it countless times and seen the consequences. 

But yet it was the reason for the mess they currently found themselves in: too far away from ex-fil and too many bad guys following them on an unpaved road going down in serpentines and ending in a valley where hopefully an exfiltration team waited for them. If they came to reach that valley, that was. He took the serpentines at full speed with nothing but a few inches between them and the abyss. The windshield was plastered with mud. It was difficult to see the road. And then there was this singing. It was the singing of tiny, but fast objects cutting sharply through the air, the rear window splintering into tiny pieces and the windshield being peppered with holes. A hail of bullets. They weren’t going to make it. Not this time. Unless one part of their engine managed to give a one hundred and ten percent performance by coming up with a plan of how to outpace or at least get rid of the bad guys. He didn’t even care how. What only mattered was that it eventually happened.

“Damn, Mac! Come up with something or we will die in this jungle!” Jack shouted. He was too concentrated, too tense to find a way of phrasing his concern in a way, which would take the seriousness off the mess they found themselves in. Indeed, it wasn’t the first time they were in such a situation. Somehow, they managed to be involved in muddy car races for at least once a month and Jack never lost his nerves or ability to smooth a critical situation over. But this time, this time was different. This time there was Riley sitting in the back of the car with a bullet in her upper arm, blood oozing from the gunshot wound soaking her t-shirt and dripping onto the seats of the jeep. And why was she sitting there with a gun hot wound in her upper arm? Because of an unnecessary mistake as a consequence of a dysfunctional part of their working-machine.

“What do you think I am trying to do?” Mac shouted back. The direness of the situation tainting his voice making it sharper than it would usually be.   
“As far as I can see, nothing!” Jack shouted back. They didn’t have much time and many opportunities. They needed a way out. Some way. Any way. Unfortunately, after the last stunt he couldn’t convince himself that he didn’t care how they got to exfil as long as they managed to in time. He was particularly concerned about how to reach exfil alive and with everyone in full possession of their limbs. Jack started thinking. Maybe he shouldn’t be too concerned about the long-term effects of mentioned mistake. But at least mid-term effects had to be considered at this stage.

From the corner of his eye Jack could see Mac unbuckling his seatbelt. A clear sign that he finally worked out a plan to get them out. Jack only hoped that it worked properly. A glimpse at the rear mirror made him hiss. Riley sat in the back of the car tightly clutching her hand around her injured arm. There was blood still oozing from the wound. Damn, this should never have happened, he thought to himself. He focused on the road again. He pressed the peddle to the floor, taking the serpentines at neck breaking speed, while his partner was hanging out of the passenger window throwing whatever fuming and smelling gimmick towards their haunters. He was glad to hear the reassuring kaboom and see that it forced the bad guys to evasive manoeuvres sending them over the edge or full force into the mountain wall on their other side. It took some time for Jack to relax. Whatever it had been, it had fended off the bad guys allowing him to slow down to a more appropriate speed. They would make it to exfil with all their limbs attached to them.


	3. Collision Course

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this. I really do appriciate your time!

They sat on the plane on their way back to L.A. Jack watched Riley. She looked a little pale and shaken, but she was sitting upright inspecting her arm. She hissed when she lifted the sleeve of her t-shirt to get a better look at the wound. The bleeding had slowed down. This was a good sign. It indicated that the bullet didn’t hit an artery. He felt relief, but his anger didn’t subside. Neither did his fear. His heart stopped the second he saw Riley going down after being hit by the bullet. Images of her dying in his arms flashed through his mind, the second he realised what had happened. The mere possibility of losing her triggered something. Some sort of primal fear. He couldn’t lose her. She wasn’t supposed to die in the line of duty and especially not before her time – before him. It was the second that he realised that he still felt like a father for that little girl. She was his family. She was his little girl and he felt the plain fear every father would feel seeing his child seriously injured. It broke his heart to see her in pain. It was unbearable. A pain he had never felt before roared through him. It was a mixture of fear and anger laced with desperation and love.

He watched Mac crouch down in front of Riley. He was about to treat her wound with the supplies in the first aid kit, while speaking soothing words of reassurance to her.

“It’ll be alright. It doesn’t look like it hit something vital”, he told Riley gently taking her arm into his hand and taking a closer look at the wound.

“There is something vital in my arm?”, Riley asked in disbelieve.

“It could have nicked an artery and that would have been vital,” Jack intervened and stepped forward. He pushed Mac aside taking a good look at Riley’s arm. He then began to clean and dress the wound. Mac, who had stumbled aside after being pushed, held his arms up in defeat causing Riley to cast curious glances at him and Jack. Jack left his behaviour uncommented. His focus was Riley’s well-being. Nothing else mattered for now and it was safer if he took it into his own hands. This mission was the proof of his utmost fear. The fear of losing someone which materialised if the bullet had hit just a little lower or a little somewhere else. Carefully he started dressing the wound and he was proud of Riley. She held still only letting a small hiss now and then escape her lips. She was a brave young woman. A brave young woman that got unnecessarily injured. He wasn’t sure whether he could forgive this or whether he actually wanted to. Not since everybody should know what Riley meant to him.

“You should call Matty and let her know what has happened,” Jack commanded Mac, which earned him another questioning glance from Riley.

“Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” he assured her pretending not to see the questioning look on her face.

Not nearly landed at Phoenix, Riley was rushed to medical while Jack and Mac were urgently requested to the war room. Of course a Matilda Webber wanted to know how their mission could possibly have gone so awfully sideways leaving Riley with a bullet in her upper arm. Jack snorted. This time, he wouldn’t be the one doing the explaining. He felt that he was having enough of it. There were too many missions going south. Too many misjudgements and too many mistakes. And way too much improvisation. He was sick of it and watching Riley getting hurt was his cue to know that he had to put a halt to it. Somehow. He had no plan.

The best would be to persuade Mattey to cross Riley’s name off the list with the names of field agents on it. She was better off in the war room and could produce her magic from safe distance. There was no need for her to accompany them. On the other hand, Riley would never forgive him for something like this. Damn had she been proud of her solo mission. True, she admitted of being scared too, but the pride of being a full-fledged agent surviving in the field was overwhelming for her. He couldn’t take that pride from her. Two years prison had taken much from her and ripped her of her self-esteem. It had been a long way for her to go and accept that she was a highly skilled woman and that she was important for their job. It took her even longer to finally accept that she was even more important for him, but he was working on that.

“Nice to meet you guys. Anyone cares to explain what just happened?” Mattey asked them the second they entered the war room. Bozer was there, too. Of course, Mattey looked at Jack. But his lips were sealed.

“I’m waiting for an explanation as to why one of my agents is currently in medical being treated for a gunshot wound,” Mattey emphasized and Mac took a step forward.

“As you know the plan was to block the entrance by an explosion bringing down the supporting columns so we could make a safe exit. Unfortunately though, the columns were thicker than anticipated and the fundament was carried by much more supporting columns than we could see. The consistency of the explosives was just not strong enough and…”

“You have miscalculated then,” Mattey interrupted him.

“Yes Ma’am,” was all Mac answered causing Jack to snort. This was just hilarious. Because this guy couldn’t add one and one properly together they have once again been close to a near death experience. No, not they, but Riley.

“Any idea how that could have happened?” Mattey asked in her brisk voice sending chills down Jack’s spine. She was on a wrath and damn was he lucky that she was not after him this time.

“As I mentioned, the calculations based on anticipation and not exact data. Although I already calculated with a security margin, so to speak, it wasn’t enough. Added to that I had to make sure that the detonation wouldn’t impact our exit,” Mac went on explaining.

“I take it that this time the phrase “a lot helps a lot” didn’t apply,” Mattey concluded from what Mac said and he simply nodded.

Jack suddenly felt a cold grip around his heart and its coldness spread through his veins into his body. Suddenly, he felt awfully collected, but at the same time angry. Cold anger. He just couldn’t shake the image of Riley going down after being shot out of his mind. He couldn’t stop this scene from repeating in his head over and over again. The feelings of mourn and desperation rushing through him, because he couldn’t stop it. The knowledge that she was alive and not life threateningly injured didn’t help. It had been close. Too close. The image of Diane mourning over the grave of her only daughter that he failed to protect popped up in his mind and lodged itself there with a tight grip.

“So you could have blocked the entrance, but you didn’t because the explosive was too small, because you didn’t want what? Risk our exit?” Jack blurted. Not knowing why, but following an instinct awakened by the cold hand’s grip around his heart.

“The radius of the blast extends with the intensity of the explosive…and why do I actually have to explain that to you?” Mac blurts back focusing on Jack now annoyance displayed on his face.

“You know how these things work,” Mac went on, but Jack wouldn’t hear any of it stepping forward closing the gap between him and Mac, now both standing toe to toe.

“Guys! Stop there, I get it. It was a mistake, but fortunately we got off cheaply. Now…” Matty intervened, but Jack also didn’t want to hear what she had to say. Getting off cheaply while Riley got shot? How could she dare?

“Matty, with all due respect, I would not consider a team mate getting shot as getting off cheaply,” he pronounced.

“Jack, you and Mac are getting shot or stabbed or both on a regular basis and nobody’s making a fuss. And why is it so? Because it’s the job. I’m sorry, Riley got hurt. But she will be fine and she has to get used to these risks. In any other circumstances she would have been forced to handle such a wound for days before proper treatment. We all have been through this,” Matty countered Jack. Jack didn’t like it. She was talking about his kid. His little girl and his little girl being hurt was never ever near the land of okay.

“So, now that we’ve settled that. MacGyver, I want you to reflect on this mission and come up with a plan of how to avoid such a mistake for the next time.”

“Yes, Ma’am”, Mac replied with a sigh rubbing a tired hand over his face. Mac was about to leave, but Jack wasn’t ready to leave the matter. He had to do something to prevent such mistakes from happening. There was still this cold hand and it squeezed his heart. He knew what he was about to do was not right. But sometimes one had to make a wrong thing to prevent a bunch of other wrong things to happen. He had to protect Riley. He had to stop missions from going south. He was too damn tired for watching someone he cared for getting seriously hurt. He couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Director Webber,”, this introduction got him the full attention in the room. Mac froze in his tracks and Bozer tilted his head. Matty stood up to all her height folding her arms across her chest waiting for what was there yet to come. Jack took a deep breathe. He knew this would have consequences and hell he never thought of himself as a the one fouling his own nest, but he couldn’t stop thinking of Riley and what would have happened if the bullet had hit her somewhere else.

“After today’s mission I doubt that MacGyver is any longer fit for field work,” Jack finally phrased what sleet rain has whispered into his mind. Matty looked unimpressed, while Mac looked like struck by lightning.


	4. Escalation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this story! As for now, I have not yet an idea, where this story will lead me to. It starts developing an independent existence.

“Do you care to explain what brings up such a conclusion?” Matty asked.

“Ma’am, since…MacGyver found out about his father, I come to witness him being more and more often distracted. We all know that distraction of any kind poses a risk on missions and the people involved. That’s why I’d suggest to bench MacGyver until he has resolved the issues concerning his relationship with his father,” Jack finished.

Matty nodded. Mac looked all shades of pale and Bozer was frozen. Jack, eventually could let out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding for so long and the cold grip around his heart vanished. His chest became lighter, but the anger was still there, flowing warm but soothingly through his veins. He wasn’t finished. No, he was ready to do whatever was necessary to protect Riley from what has happened.

“Okay, what do you think about this?” Matty asked Mac who still looked like a fish that landed harshly on the shore desperately gasping for air.

“I…This is bullshit. This was a mere miscalculation caused by inadequate data,” Mac replied shooting angry glances at Jack who didn’t return the looks he earned.

“I see. I will think about what you have said, agent Dalton. You are all dismissed for now,” Matty said.

Jack brushed past Mac leaving the room, but he felt Mac following him on his heels. He felt a tight grasp around his biceps stopping him on his wrath. He spun around, face to face with Mac. The look on his partner’s face, the hurt and the betrayal didn’t change his mind. He still stood for what he had said and he would do anything in his power, to get it done. He had to protect the closest thing of a child he had. He wasn’t ready for feeling the grief of a father, who had lost his only child far too early due to the careless actions of a boy.

“What was that about?” Mac demanded. Jack shrugged Mac off forcing his arm out of Mac’s grip.

“I mean, why this? Why now? And why the fuck did you never talk to me about…this stupid concern of yours?” Mac demanded, but Jack would not justify what he had done. Mac knew very well where this came from. They’ve had conversations about this, even long before Mac found out about his father. Jack more than once had accused him of being off his game. But he had never made his concerns official. Mac had always found a way to sooth Jack’s concerns and Mac really had taken his criticism to heart. He had found new methods to stay focused. He had pushed aside all feelings and thoughts regarding his dad aside only letting them emerge when he was alone and on his own. He really had tried. Hard.

“Because I am tired of this shit!” Jack replied. No, not replied. The hot anger in him made him scream his words with a deep growl signalling that Mac better stepped out of his way and just accepted what has happened.

“I’m so fucking tired of all our mission’s going south and I’m tired of watching someone I care about getting hurt! I just can’t fucking take it anymore!” He spat. Mac took it all, but avoided looking him into his eyes. From experience Mac knew that Jack having a fit like this shouldn’t be provoked any further. He focused on the floor beneath pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He breathed a sigh.

“Jack, I know that this…must’ve gotten to you. Believe me, I don’t want Riley getting hurt either and I would never forgive myself if anything serious happened to her. But our job is dangerous and involves us getting hurt. I mean, Mattey was right. We get hurt nearly on an everyday basis and we cope. What makes you think…,” Mac’s calm collected, but exhausted voice was interrupted by Jack.

“I don’t fucking care, Mac!” Jack’s anger was boiling now.

“Okay, fine. That’s it then? Throwing away all we’ve been through? Throwing away our partnership galvanized through hardship?”

“Yes Mac, I do. And know what? I’m revoking my Wookie-Life-Debt. I’m done with this!” Jack spat and then made his way to medical. He had to see Riley.


	5. Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and the kudos and the comments, which are an inspiration for me!

He felt cold. So awfully cold. These walls were his shelter and they started crumbling. They became porous. There were pierced holes in it and the brisk wind from all those onslaughts blew through them.

The blows started hitting him. Not with full force yet, but they came through to all those tiny pierced holes. He tried to repair them. He tried to build a thicker wall, but he was too slow. The blows were flying towards him and he had not enough time to repair the damage done to his wall. The intervals, in which the blows came rushing, became shorter and shorter. Not enough time to take a breath and collect himself. Hiding and repairing. That was is current mantra, but he failed. He failed to repair and he failed to duck and cover from the onslaught. This failure was dangerous. He knew that. He had to get out of the war zone he was currently trapped in. Otherwise, he would not be able to fend off all those blows much longer. The wall was becoming permeable. Whatever hit it was coming to get to him. He had to get out. The walls started crumbling and no matter what, he inwardly knew he couldn’t stop what was coming towards him.

He felt it. He was crumbling. Bits and pieces were ripped off him. With each blow a little more.


	6. Breaking Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope I could fix the chapter numbering!

Mac watched Jack part from him. He felt exhausted. His mind was racing. What exactly had he done so awfully wrong this time? What made this mission being so different from all others that went south? Mac remembered a big number of missions going south with worst outcomes: missions which nearly failed; missions that actually failed; missions, which involved more severe injuries and he also remembered a mission in which Riley’s well-being was much more at stake than in this one. Though, this here was enough to set Jack off and Mac had trouble comprehending why. He racked his brains whether he had missed something. Maybe he missed any warning signs. Maybe Jack has been giving clear signs which he has just missed. Maybe he didn’t look or listen close enough?

In fact, Jack had a point. Mac had been way too absorbed with his father. Well, not with his father in person, but with what their first meeting had revealed to him: his whole life was staged. Nothing was real. Nothing in his life had happened on his choice. It had been all his father’s doing. This had been the hardest part to come to terms withand not the realisation that his father was still the distant and never-stop-teaching-you-lessons guy. It was the revelation that he - his father - had paved Mac’s way, which made finding his father so awfully complicated. Not Mac made his choices. His father made them. High School, MIT, Army, DXS and Phoenix. These weren’t his achievements, but his father pulling some strings. It was disgusting. He was disgusting and he wondered how many people knew about this. How many people he was working with knew that it weren’t his skills but his father keeping him there and getting him into this job in first place?

Mac took a deep breath and sighed shaking his head. He had to get over this and he had to get straight with Jack again. Somehow. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Bozer. Damn, he probably had witnessed all of this mess.

“You okay?” Bozer asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Mac said looking at Bozer. In fact, he had never been further away from being okay, but he didn’t want Bozer to worry. There was no good reason for it.

“You sure? I mean Jack sounded…he…,” Mac waved Bozer off.

“I’m sure and Jack will calm down, too,” Mac replied. He has never been as unsure in his life than now. He still remembered the look in Jack’s eyes and then there was it. Crack. A huge massive crack and some sort of stabbing pain at the realisation that it was there. Suddenly, Mac felt panic stirring up inside of him. Where did this crack come from? Why hadn’t he seen it any sooner and how the hell was he supposed to mend this crack? It felt so huge.

“If you say so. Okay, then lets head home,” Bozer dragged him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t you have a date with Leanne?” Mac asked.

“I can cancel it. After all what has happened today, I don’t want you to stew all alone with your thoughts. Leanne will understand,” Bozer explained and Mac’s heart dropped even deeper. The last thing he wanted was to give the impression to his friend that he wasn’t fit for a night on his own. He knew all too well how much Leanne meant to Bozer and he didn’t want to ruin it for his friend. It wasn’t worth it.

“Bozer, stop right there. I’ll be fine. You just go out and enjoy yourself,” Mac replied. Bozer was about to say something, but Mac shook his head, patted his friend’s shoulder and walked past him to grab his bag and head home. He needed time. He needed time to think. He had to get his head straight and sort things out with Jack. Hell, he had no idea where to start tidying up the mess he had produced.

“Mac, do you have a minute?” Mac was yet again stopped on his way out of the Phoenix and back home. This time it was his father’s stern voice.

“I just spoke to Matty. Can we talk about the mission and Jack’s fallout?” his father asked. No. No, Mac didn’t want to talk about until he hadn’t wrapped his head around it and sorted it out for himself.

“So what went wrong?” his father asked and Mac sighed.

“You talked to Matty so you know what went wrong,” Mac replied curtly.

“But how could that happen? You should know better,” his father replied as if it was utterly unbelievable how Mac could have made such a simple mistake of miscalculating something.

“You know how such mistakes happen. Without exact data it is impossible to get more than a possible range. You’ll never get an exact result,” Mac was tired of explaining it over and over again. He felt like being caught in a time loop.

“But why weren’t you prepared, son?” there was desperation in his father’s voice as if he was struggling to truly understand that Mac – his son – was capable of making a mistake.

“Okay, let’s face it. I made a mistake. A simple, but stupid and risky mistake. I get it,” Mac admitted in hopes of getting over with this conversation sooner.

“And that’s what I don’t get. You’ve been working here for quite a while now. You know about the risks and…”

“Can we, maybe just cut it off and you tell me what you have to tell me?” Mac harshly interrupted his father.

“Alright, alright. I get it. I was thinking, maybe Dalton was right. Maybe you are in for a break,” his father came to the whole point of the conversation, which got Mac struck. Now he too?

“I mean, maybe a change of scenery can help you to get it all sorted out. I mean, I want you to know that I truly understand that how you must feel about us and that it confuses you. I really do understand. So, what do you think? I have a friend. He’s working for the European Space Research and Technology centre in Netherlands,” his father suggested. Mac had some trouble to grasp what his father was just telling him for which he stayed silent a short while. Processing what his father was indicating, he tilted his head to measure the situation – his father.

“You want to ship me off to ESA?” Mac rather stated than asked.

“No, I want to open new opportunities to you. This might be quite inspiring. I mean, as kid you’ve been quite…” Mac just didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear about what his father thought, who he was and what he was interested in. It was all nothing but his father projecting is own interests on him. And that had to come to an end.

“No, stop right there. How the hell do you want to know what I did like as a kid and what not? And anyway, if I decide I need a break, I’ll be the one choosing were to spend it. I want you to stop controlling me. I want you to stop controlling my life. I make my own choices and my own decisions and if they are wrong than it is on me to make amends,” Mac told his father to back off. He wasn’t screaming, but rather matter of fact. It was however enough to leave his father stunned. But it was obvious to Mac that his father wasn’t willing to let it go that easily. He was used to be in control and he was used to people do as he told them to. Well, Mac was about to teach him another lesson.

“Mac, come on. You’re a little emotional, which is not the best state to make any decisions and…”

“I was clear, wasn’t I? I want you to stay out of my life. It is my damn life and I decide how I will live it,” Mac cut his father short and turned around. He needed to leave. He needed to get out of the building and away. There was suddenly so much pressure inside of him that he felt as if he was about to burst like a balloon.

“Unfortunately, it is not that easy, son. Your life and your decisions affect others too. You can’t just act out like a stubborn teenager and storm off slamming doors!”

“Know, what? Forget it. Just…leave me alone,” Mac replied. He wished he could just shout into his father’s face what the heck he knew about a stubborn teenager running off and slamming doors since he successfully avoided that stage of Mac growing up.

“Mac, believe me. Your well-being is my sole interest here,” Mac’s father wasn’t ready to give up. How could he? He wasn’t used to lose.

“Sure, as much as you want to protect me from whatever by directing me in a line of work where I risk my life on a day to day basis. Somehow, you still own me an explanation for this one,” Mac snorted and turned around. He was done with talking for this day. He has had enough.


	7. Solving Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this. I think the story starts developing now ;)

He stood outside on the deck. The night was dark and brisk. Clouds covered the sky so it was even darker than usual. Mist smothered the sounds, which usually came up from the city life beneath. It blocked his view and left him short sighted. He stood there wondering how he got from a mission, which did not go as planned, to questioning his whole life and relationships – especially the one to Jack. He had tried to call Jack. Several times. His calls were sent straight to voicemail, which meant Jack was truly and thoroughly pissed. He felt awfully helpless. How did you start to repair something if you didn’t even know where it was damaged? Mac was still not capable of grasping what had caused his fallout with Jack. Truth to be admitted, Jack had a fair point when he accused him of being preoccupied with his father-issues. And Mac could imagine that Jack was maybe a little angry that he didn’t come to him to talk about it. But Mac was not yet ready. He was still too confused to decide which step to take next. He just didn’t know what he wanted - whether he actually wanted anything at all. But somehow it didn’t explain why Jack freaked out the way he did in the war room, at least not without warning Mac first. Did Mac know Jack that bad? Did he know him at all?

A cold wind blew causing Mac to shiver and he turned inside dropping down on the brown weathered couch leaning forward, his elbows digging painfully into his thighs as he buried his face in his hands. With a heavy breath he fished his cell phone out of his pocket and tried to call Jack. Straight to voicemail. He texted Jack another message, begging him for talk through what happened. Apologising even, although he didn’t know what he apologised for.

Although of being inside, he still felt cold. Maybe even colder than he felt standing outside on the deck watching the city. He understood that this didn’t make any sense, but somehow the whole day didn’t make any sense to him. And then he let himself fall back into the cushions of the couch and mused over Jack’s words. And Jack was right. He had to sort out his issues with his father. Instead of solving a puzzle finding his father left him only with more chaos. At some point he really wished he hadn’t found his father and had left things rest. But now it was too late. It was troubling him more than he wanted to admit. After finding out that he had been there all the time and pulled the strings from back stage, everything became a scam for him. Nothing was true anymore and every time something new turned up: a new person in his life, a new opportunity or just the inspiration for a new project to work on, he started questioning: was it really all by himself or did his father pull some strings, again? He started to feel insecure something he definitely could not afford to be in his line of job.

But there he was, feeling awfully vulnerable and exposed. The mere idea of there being someone who knew everything about him and was capable to control him and his actions was disturbing. Especially for him, since he always considered himself as some sort of free bird, not liking rules too much and pushing boundaries to their breaking point. So, that would explain that he might really be a little distracted from time to time, but it didn’t help him to understand Jack’s reaction.

Mac was reminded of Jack’s reaction when Riley went on her first solo mission. Had they talked about it? Not really. Mac accepted Jack’s reaction and after the mission was accomplished everything was fine. That was how things worked between them. Suck it up. That was, at least, how Mac saw it. Was he supposed to push matters further? He didn’t see much of an issue then. He understood Jack’s reaction.

An hour later Mac was pacing through the house. He hadn’t come up with a plan. Jack didn’t pick up the phone. Mac felt at a loss. There was really nothing he could do. But then he stopped in his track. Was there really nothing he could do? He might be running away from problems which, as his grandfather used to say, never really solved a problem. But maybe he could get some space, which he needed to think things through and come up with a plan. Maybe they just all needed a break from each other, or at least from him. Maybe he could create a win-win situation for all of them. He could get away for some time and start to come to terms with everything and Jack would get a break from him. After watching his six for so many years, hell the dude was in for a break from this. Mac knew he was not the easiest partner to watch over.

He went to his desk and turned on the computer. He thought about what he and Frankie had been musing about, when they were at MIT and just thought about their future. Somehow, Mac had always been attracted to development assistance. In the rare moments of solitude he came to realise that he envied those of his former mates, who really made it there and were now using their skills to provide help and support to those who really had nothing to start with. They weren’t rich. They weren’t famous. But hell he knew from those he stayed in contact with, that they were at least happy. Their job was satisfying them. And truth to be told: he wasn’t rich either and far from being a famous, too. The only difference was the fact that he was risking his life just a little more often than his mates in Africa or South America.


	8. Way out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for taking the time and reading this. And et voila ;)

His head shot up the second he heard his cell phone ring. It took some time for him to come back to the real world and shake off the confusion, which came with being woken harshly from a deep exhausted slumber. He blinked several times and stretched his neck. He, once again, fell asleep over his new project at the desk. This was definitely not the best habit and not being recommended by an orthopaedist. He rubbed a tired hand over his face. His body felt as if cement was running through his veins. He was somehow sore all over. The result from a way too short sleep in a way too uncomfortable position. He looked at his cell phone, which lay on his desk. It was a message from Matty: _Come here ASAP_ , was all it said. He felt awfully tired and wasn’t in the mood for yet another mission. Heck, he wasn’t in the mood to share the same room with Jack. At least not until they hadn’t come to terms over whatever destructive power was intruding their relationship.

He got up from his chair and debated whether he had time for a quick wash and breakfast, but a second glance at the message and the time it had taken him to finally get moving after receiving it –whole seven minutes – suggested otherwise and so he left for the Phoenix.

On his drive to Phoenix Mac felt discomfort settling down in the pit of his stomach causing him to feel queasy. In fact, he dreaded meeting Jack after yesterday’s encounter. He didn’t feel ready for it, since he didn’t have a proper explanation and was far away from having a solution to the problem he hasn’t come to identify. He pulled up to the curb and turned off the engine. His nerves were playing tricks with him. He felt tense. He took a few deep breaths and let his forehead rest on the steering wheel. He closed his eyes only to open them instantly again. His fight with Jack was rambling through his mind again and again in an infinite loop. Hearing Jack’s words, the anger in his voice and the hurt, felt like burning acid.

After a few more minutes passed and he accepted that he wasn’t going to feel any better about the dreaded confrontation, he drove on to Phoenix. There sure as hell was a reprimand from Matty waiting for him for being late.

He went through the corridors of the building. The sun light pretended as if it was yet another normal day in L.A. The Phoenix staff that crossed his way cheerfully greeted him and Mac did his best not to ruin their day with his own moodiness. They did deserve to enjoy a normal day in L.A. It never crossed his mind how random the building and corridors looked like. A visitor not knowing what they were doing would never come to the conclusion that this here was some sort of secret agency for whatever shit the other agencies left for them to tidy up.

The door to the war room was open. He entered it and was puzzled to only see Matty sitting on the arm rest of one of the sofas.

“Am I that late?” Mac asked.

“No, it’s only you and me,” Matty replied and Mac’s stomach sunk deeper. Then she’s been thinking fast about Jack’s accusations, so to speak. He braced himself for what was yet about to come. Another blow. Another onslaught. But at this very moment it was clear to him that he would survive and deal with it. That was his life. No matter what was thrown at him, he would get up back onto his own feet standing upright and just walk on. Maybe this time he would allow himself to remain before he would get up again. But eventually he would. It was like law of nature - like Newton’s law.

Matty looked at him like she was seeing through him. Mac wasn’t sure whether he was interpreting things wrongly, but she didn’t appear as harsh as was her usual nature and thus, he sat down in front of her when she gestured him to take a seat.

“The situation in the near-middle east is escalating,” she started and Mac was confused, because of all things he hadn’t thought about what was yet to come.

“Our troops in Afghanistan and Iraq are not safe anymore. Some group of terrorists is planting bombs along our routes. They are difficult to detect, but even more difficult to disarm. 14 soldiers died. Every time our EODs find one, they do not come far enough to disarm them. The detonation and heat dissipation are too strong. Until today we couldn’t retrieve any remains allowing us to study the mechanics behind these bombs,” Matty started explaining. Mac felt for the soldiers and their families. He might have left the sandbox behind, but he still was one of them. After all he was still an EOD and it dawned to him where this conversation was about to go.

“To cut it short, the FBI lent Charlie Robinson to the US Army and they’re asking for you, too,” Matty finished. Mac nodded.

“Mac, I know this is tough. You served three years and you’ve dealt your fair share with this. But it’s your choice. If you want to go, I’ll have everything arranged in no time. If you want to stay here, it’s fine too. It won’t be a break in your career or some of that sort,” Matty explained to him. Mac wasn’t sure what to say. Of all scenarios offering him a way out of his current misery, this was the last he had been thinking about. But here it was - a chance to leave all behind and still be useful.

“What does Oversight have to say about this?” Mac asked automatically. He wanted to know whether he still had options to choose or whether everything had already been decided yet.

“He doesn’t know. I haven’t talked about it to him, yet. Listen, Mac. This is something only you can decide on. If you go, you’ll be back in the Army, back in their chain of command. Phoenix does not have any right of command when you’re there until you’re back,” Matty told him. Her words sounded awfully seducing. He would really get what he needed. He would get back the feeling of freedom. He would be away from his father’s control, for once. He would create the needed distance between him and Jack. He wouldn’t be alone either, because Charlie was there and hell, he liked working with Charlie. Two bomb nerds in the same room could bore the rest of the audience to death, but the two nerds would still think of the evening as being hilarious fun. But he hesitated. What if Jack’s words were true? He would shift the risk from one team to another one. Was that right? Was it fair to pose a risk to those who really needed his help?

“I’m not sure, whether I’d be fit for this. I’m not sure whether I’ll be focused enough to be of an actual help rather than a risk,” mac stated honestly.

“Mac, I know what Jack has said must’ve gotten to you. And that is definitely something the two of you have to sort out. But I wouldn’t have offered you this, if I wasn’t one hundred percent sure of you being capable of doing this. I do not share Jack’s concern and I don’t have seen the distraction Jack accused you for. I’m certain, when you’re there, you’ll be hyper focused on whatever gets your way there,” she assured him and it felt good to know that there was one person that didn’t doubt him.

“I’ll go,” Mac said. These words spoken relief spread through him and settled where actually nervousness and anticipation should make themselves known. At least, he was about to go back into the sandbox. He was going back into a warzone. He was about to relive those three years which have given him more nightmares than his time spent at DXS and later Phoenix. But here he was: ready to go back and glad to have found a way out. He sure was leaving all his problems behind. He was running, but not solving. But maybe it was this distance, geographically and personally, which he needed to come up with a plan.

“I thought you’d say this. Wheels up tomorrow morning 0500,” Matty said.


	9. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this. I hope you and your beloved ones are well. Let's try not to dwell too long on the sad crazy times we all experience. Let's try to make the best of it and stay positive!

Mac knew telling Bozer would be tough. But he had underestimated his best friend’s reaction by far. Bozer was furious and Mac wouldn’t have been any surprised if there was hot steam leaking from his ears.

“Are you kidding? Damn it Mac, you’ve served three years. Isn’t that enough?” Bozer did not scream, but he also didn’t hide his frustration either. Mac didn’t blame him. He remembered Bozer’s reaction when he told him about his plans of joining the army. Bozer has had trouble accepting his decision to enlist. When he told him he was shipped off to Afghanistan, he had been near outrageous asking him again and again how he could dare risking his life. Mac knew where Bozer’s concerns came from and he tried his best to soothe them. He was fully aware that this attempt was doomed to failure. After witnessing his brother die after a terrible gun shot accident, he was afraid of losing another beloved one. Bozer had lived through the nightmare of watching his brother die. He was familiar with the feeling of helplessness coming along with it. And as much as Mac hated to trigger all those fears in his friend, he couldn’t take that into account now. Mac needed this. He really did.

“Bozer, Charlie asked for my help and I do have a responsibility here – somehow,” Mac heard how lame his excuse sounded to his friend. He felt utterly sorry for putting him through this. He really wished there was another solution, but for him there was none. He needed to get away, but it was difficult to explain his reasoning to Bozer without aggravating his friend’s worries.

“Yeah, emphasising ‘somehow’. Only because you think it’s your job to save other people’s life by sacrificing yours, it doesn’t mean it’s true,” Bozer pointed out. Mac sighed and sat down on the couch while Bozer started pacing up and down the living room. Mac felt bad for doing this again to his friend. Images of the fear written all over Bozer’s face, when he told him he was deployed to Afghanistan, popped up in front of his inner eyes. Those three years had been hard on his friend. Although Mac tried to keep the scary stuff away from him and told him that his job wasn’t as dangerous as it appeared, Bozer didn’t relax until the day Mac called him to tell that he had arrived back stateside. 

“Boze, we’re risking our lives working for the Phoenix every day. And I mean ‘we’ as you and me. There is no difference whether it’s here, on a mission or in the sandbox,” Mac went on. He didn’t want Bozer to worry, because that scared puppy like look made Mac nearly regret his decision.

“Yeah, but I’m with you then. It gives me the feeling of being in control, you know? But when you’re in Afghanistan, there is nothing I can do to help you when something happens,” Bozer pointed out. Maybe Mac should’ve talked to Bozer about it first, before making his decision. But Bozer would’ve talked him out of it and Mac didn’t want that. He wanted to leave. He wanted to leave L.A. He wanted to leave the Phoenix. He wanted to put a safe distance between himself and his father. He wanted to have a break from his team and eventually he also wanted to get some distance between him and Jack. He needed to go, but how was he supposed to make Bozer understand that need? At least without giving Bozer the impression his decision relates to him? Because it really didn’t.

“Control? When do we ever have control over anything? Bozer each mission, every project - all the time something unexpected happens. I mean, there is a reason for us having to improvise,” Mac tried to convince Bozer from the job in Afghanistan being not really different from what they did all day, because it wasn’t. At least not to him.

“But why? I mean, why alone?” Bozer was frantic and Mac was not far away from declaring defeat, because he needed Bozer to understand. He needed Bozer to accept his decision.

“I’m not alone. Charlie’s there too and he’s one of the most experienced EODs I ever met. Believe me Bozer, that’s not extraordinarily dangerous,” Mac continued to calm Bozer, who grew more agitated with each word that left Mac’s mouth.

“But we won’t be there. We, your team, your family,” Bozer said and Mac cringed at the word ‘family’. He hasn’t thought about it before, but somehow for him it didn’t feel like that anymore. He felt detached from all this. It was his team, yes. And he had a responsibility to protect his team. But he didn’t feel like being a part of a family. Somehow, he never really did. Or did he? At some point, the emotional chaos he was trapped in made him question everything and especially the past. What was his position in that team or ‘family’? For him it was awfully undefined.

“That doesn’t necessarily need to be a bad thing. We’re constantly working together, 24/7 through the whole year. Getting a chance to work with someone else might help us to improve our team dynamics,” Mac tried to turn his decision into something positive, but Bozer’s critical look told him he failed. For him, there was nothing positive about Mac’s decision and he would let Mac know that. Hell, Mac knew Bozer for so long. He should’ve foreseen this. He should’ve packed up and leave without telling his friend. But that would’ve been unfair, too.

“Is it because of what Jack said?” Bozer hit the nail’s head, but Mac wouldn’t want to tell him that, because it would make Bozer get involved and Mac didn’t want that. For Mac it was something he and Jack had to solve on their own.

“No…I mean…it made me realise that after so many years, we’re getting on each other’s nerves, which is totally understandable. Jack and I are working together for something like six or seven years by now. We’re inclined a break,” Mac said and eventually Bozer’s shoulders sank down in defeat. Mac felt relieved.

“I just want you to know that Jack spoke for himself. I don’t share his opinion and I’m convinced you do your best all the time and if you make a mistake, then be it. As sorry as I am to say that, but you’re not Superman and Captain America neither,” Bozer replied and sat down next to Mac. His peace offering. Mac couldn’t express how much he appreciated the words Bozer just said. He couldn’t express how much he appreciated Bozer for being there and for his nature, which allowed him to see even Mac as a good person. He was grateful for their friendship. It grounded him and helped him to focus on the real important things when he threatened to lose focus in the whirlpool of chaos.

“I know, Boze and I’m really thankful for it,” Mac said looking Bozer into the eyes to make him see that he really and truly meant it.

“And there’s nothing I can do to make you change your mind?” Mac shook his head. He made the decision deliberately and he wouldn’t back off. He could see that Bozer was still unhappy, but he had given up the fight. Now Mac could only hope that he would calm down at some point and accept it. He watched Bozer. It was still working in his head. He was processing the information and the fact that Mac would part from him the next morning for an indefinite time. Mac wished he could’ve made it any easier for his friend, but there was nothing easy about his decision. He could only hope that the rest of the team: Riley and Jack would be there and catch Bozer and help him. Well, he was sure Riley would do everything to cheer Bozer up. He wasn’t so sure about Jack anymore. He just didn’t understand what went on with him. He only hoped he wouldn’t take it out on Riley and Bozer when he was gone. He couldn’t protect them from Jack’s mood when he was in the sandbox, which was a realisation that made him regret his decision. He was supposed to protect his team and now he was leaving them behind to an unknown destiny. Was he the one about to destroy the team? Was he causing a rip? The rip, which was already there? Was he deepening it? But he didn’t have the strength to hold the team and himself together. At the end something was bound to break apart and he didn’t want it to be the team.


	10. Jalalabad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for taking the time and reading this story. Let's give it a little twist ...;)

Jack didn’t know why Matty wanted to talk to him alone. But he anticipated it was going to be about the last mission or rather the debrief of the last mission. Call it the debrief of the debrief. After his fallout with Mac, Jack took Riley home after the doctors sewed her up and declared she would be fine. She needed rest, some antibiotics for precaution and should avoid straining her arm. She was fine and on their way home she was capable of making fun of him and his helicopter parenting. That was all he needed. Some normal life or what he considered as normal life. They spent the evening together and he nearly would describe it a father-daughter evening with pizza and some movies. He really had needed it to wind down. But thinking about what he had said the day before didn’t make him change his mind. Mac needed a break. He had to start to solve his issues. Jack would not go out on a mission with him being in that state. He would just refuse that. Somebody else should carry that responsibility. Jack couldn’t. There was too much at stake.

He entered the war room. Matty stood in the middle of it waiting for him. A file rested on the small table. Jack looked around. Nobody else was there. Was there another mission coming up? Because this could be the only explanation for that file on the table, he thought.

“Matty, what is this about?” Jack asked glancing at the file lying on the table.

“Remember Jalalabad?” Matty asked. The name Jalalabad sent ice daggers down his spine. He swallowed thickly. He knew at some point this would bite him into his ass. He just hoped it wouldn’t. He felt his hands start trembling. He could still hear their screams and see their faces twisted in pain. He still had no answer to the question “why”.

“You know, you always say you will never talk about Cairo, but you never even mentioned Jalalabad. Not once,” Matty hit the sore spot. Indeed, he never mentioned it, because he wished it had never happened. He wished he could turn back the time and make things different – make another decision.

“You were trapped, you and your team and you made a decision, which cost the lives of four soldiers. You knew you were outnumbered, but instead of waiting for back up you decided to shoot your way out. You got yourself and the rest of the team trapped in that building,” Matty summed up the day he regretted most in his life. He still could hear his concerned team mates and if he had known what he knew now, he was sure he would have listened to them. But then he didn’t. He wanted them to get out no matter at what costs. He wasn’t sure whether waiting for back up would have been the right solution. One of his team mates had been shot and was bleeding to death. He wouldn’t have made it until back up arrived that much had been certain when he decided not to wait.

“You were surrounded, no way out. Back up wasn’t capable of getting through since the enemy had stocked up and was waiting for more of you to come,” Matty went on ignoring how Jack’s body started trembling. This day was supposed to end his career. He had dismissed a direct order and let four team mates die – nearly five.

“Nobody of your team would have made it out alive, if not your EOD-tech had plucked up all courage and bombed your way free,” Matty went on, delicately going through the short report on that mission without having to look it up in the file. Jack should have known that she knew. There was nothing one could hide from Mathilda Webber. Of course she knew his mistakes and his flaws. This was how she worked. But he had never witnessed her serving one’s own mistakes on a sliver trey.

“He was held three days prisoner before he could run from the terrorists only to wander one day and a half through the desert until a group of your base miraculously picked him up on their way back to the base. He never said a thing while he was heard about the events,” Matty closed. This was what all this was about? Was this the punishment for snitching on Mac? Was he suddenly the traitor?

“He couldn’t. He got some serious blows to his head. He suffered amnesia, couldn’t remember a damn thing,” Jack countered. Mac couldn’t have said anything about the events if he had wanted to, because he couldn’t remember what has happened. That was what he told himself over and over again.

“And you believe that? The doctor’s report said that a memory loss like Mac experienced was very unusual, but that he couldn’t rule it out as a consequence to his head injury either,” Matty said and then shoved the file towards him, the report already on display.

“They let it slide, Jack. Didn’t want to dig deeper and risk one of their best EODs to drop out because of PTSD,” Matty went on. This was definitely not what he wanted to hear. Reading it and listening to the words made true what he had suspected all the time. Mac never talked to him about what happened in Jalalabad and Jack never raised the topic drifting into the equilibrium of innocence. Hell, yes Mac had been in bad shape and has had a concussion, but he had seen him and he knew he hasn’t been in such a bad shape which would explain a memory loss of such an extent. He wanted to believe it though, and he did.

“I’m sorry to say it Jack, but you betrayed your partner and your friend and you should think about it,” Matty said before she left him alone with the damn file and his memories he had hoped would never come back to him again.


	11. What happened in Jalalabad stays in Jalalabad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story, for your comments, thoughts and kudos. I really do appriciate it!!! :D

_“Jack, you sure that this is a good idea? We’re totally outnumbered,” the scrawny burger-named EOD tech that was way too young to have gained enough life experience for taking part in such a grave conversation, strew in. They were huddled behind a small stonewall which offered at least little protection from the sun. The hot desert wind blew into their faces. The heat was close to unbearable. They were close to the boiling point in their gear. Sweat tickled down Jack’s back and into his eyes._

_“Do you see this guy there?” Jack snarled aggressively motioning his head into the direction of one of his comrades – Hopkins - who was currently lying in the dirt of the afghan desert, blood pooling underneath him._

_“He’ll bleed out, if we don’t get out of here now,” he hissed. His jaw was clenched tight. He ignored the concerned glances the others casted at him. They were insecure and uncertain about what to do. It was on him. He was their leader. He was the one making decisions and he had made one. He wouldn’t let one soul die in this brooding sun. It didn’t matter that they were ordered to stay put, because rescue wouldn’t come through to them soon enough._

_“And how? We’re outnumbered. They are aiming at us from all sides,” the kid replied._

_“You have to trust me,” was all he could answer, because in fact, he didn’t have a water proved plan then. And then he went over to his mates explaining his plan. They were shooting their way out of this small village. He knew back-up was coming from the north. The plan was to meet them - to actually run into them._

_“Jack, we were told to stay put and wait for back-up, maybe…,” Leeroy dared to speak up and at any other circumstances he would have thought about whether the fear he could see in the man’s eyes was justified. But there was a man dying and he wouldn’t let anyone die under his watch._

_He gave the signal and then they opened fire. They ran into the village. The scrawny kid and another EOD tech followed them carrying Hopkins secured by their fire. But they didn’t get far. Three more were hit and dropped. They didn’t have enough ammo to fight the volley and thus ran into an empty building seeking protection._

_“That went very well Dalton!” one of the surviving men screamed at him. He had a point, but Jack ignored it. He had made a mistake, but he couldn’t dwell on it. They were trapped. The terrorists were surrounding the house. It was only a matter of time until they stormed in and bowled them down. At least, they were out of the sun, the walls of the house offering some cooling for their heated emotions._

_“And how do you think to get us out of this here?” Leeroy snarled. There was an accusation audible in his voice. Jack messed up. If their cause was delicate before, it was fucked up now. He looked over to the EOD techs that took care of the Hopkins, whom he had tried to rescue. He could make out the subtle motion of a head being shaken. He was dead, too. He was struck by disaster. He would have to answer for this one, either by death or by disciplinary measures. But he couldn’t think about that now. He had to find a way out. He watched the scrawny kid walk up to him._

_“Maybe we do have a chance. Hank said they are nearing the back of the building. If they enter from the back, we could make an exit through the front, if we manage to distract them enough,” the kid suggested. Suddenly all eyes were on him. He was offering him a golden bridge and Jack hated it in that very moment. It was his mess and he had to get it sorted out. But he had to admit that until then he had no alternative plan._

_“And how do you think that will work?”_

_“Well, it involves them actually entering through the back door, a loud boom and a lot of fast running,” the kid, uncharacteristic for him, saved him a detailed explanation on mechanics and chemistry of how the plan was supposed to work out and which effects were involved and Jack was grateful for that, because he didn’t have the nerve for that._

_“What do you need?” Jack asked._

Jack sat on his couch in his lonely apartment. He had a glass of bourbon in his hand and was swirling the heavy dark brown liquid in its glass while remembering Jalalabad. It was his third glass and he definitely needed more, if he wanted to get some sleep that night. He still saw how his team mates dropped down after being hit. They looked like puppets when someone cut off their strings - all limp and motionless handing over control to the force of gravity. He still felt the accusing looks on him when he realised that he only had gotten deeper into a life threatening mess and that he let their chances of rescue evaporate. He sighed. Mac had gotten them out. He simply failed to explain one little detail: the plan involved one being left behind to spark off the explosive. He also left out that the fuse would be too short as for this person – this fucking self-sacrificing kid himself – being capable to follow them out. That’s why they got him. He had to duck and cover in the building, but he didn’t make it out.

Jack let out a sarcastic snort. Everybody thought he owned his Wookie-life debt to the kid because of the booby-trap that threatened to cross his plans of leaving for Texas within the next 14 days. But it wasn’t. If at all, it only extended this Wookie-life debt. And until today he thought Mac believed that, too. But he didn’t. He very well knew what has happened and he had never talked about it.

Jack got four soldiers killed because of his decision and it would have been more, including him, if that scrawny kid hadn’t come up with a plan.

_They were anxiously waiting at the front door waiting for the burger-named kid to give them the signal to make a move. He was tense. All nerves were on alert. He could feel his comrade’s fear. Would it work this time? Or would they only get trapped further in this village and then maybe with no chance left to make it out and back to their base? Nobody knew. They were gambling for their lives and nobody knew what their chances for survival were. Then it came._

_“Now!”, the kid screamed and they stormed out of the front door. They ran. They ran for their lives. They ran through the village and made it out of it. They heard the air cutting blades of choppers. They heard the low humming voices of the Humvees. Back-up was nearing them, but they kept running. They didn’t stop until they saw a Humvee blocking their way. They saw their comrades from the base. They were running towards them. They guarded them and guided them into the safety of the vehicles. From behind they could hear rifles being shot at them, but they were already too far away for any bullet being able to hit its target. They were safe. They had made it – at least the rest of them. There were four comrades left in the enemies hands and Jack didn’t even want to imagine what the enemy was about to do with their bodies. They were dead and would never return home. It was his fault. Maybe it was. He still wasn’t convinced that waiting for back-up would have made it any better. But the rest of them made it out alive._

_“How many were you?” the commanding Officer asked him._

_“Twelve. Four killed in action. We had to leave them behind," Jack answered. The mere brutality of what he has just lived through hit him like a sledgehammer. He felt his knees turning weak. He had to support his weight on the Humvee and leant heavily against it._

_“Means eight survivors,” the commanding Officer calculated and Jack nodded._

_“Well, where’s the eighth comrade?” he asked and only in that moment Jack came to realise that the scrawny burger-named EOD wasn’t with them. He looked around. He was nowhere to be seen. His glance went back to the village. Thick wads of smoke drifted into the air like a small tornado._

_“He …didn’t come with us,” Jack replied when he realised which part of the plan the EOD had forgot to explain to him. He hadn’t been with them when they made their exit. He didn’t follow them out on their way to the safe area where back-up caught them. Jack was confused. Why didn’t he realise that?_

_“So, it’s seven then,” the Officer concluded. Jack looked at him, still not comprehending what happened._

_“Excuse me?” Jack asked. He thought the ringing in his ears made him still incapable of proper hearing._

_“It’s seven survivors then,” the Officer told him. A concerned look was visible on his face, but it didn’t help Jack, who was hit by that reality with a force, which forced his knees to give way and he dropped down into the hot and unrelenting desert sand. This fucking kid that had questioned his approach from the very beginning had sacrificed himself for them. Jack couldn’t grasp the extent of that action. He was unable to comprehend who would do something like that. Nobody, was his guess. This kid had been way too young for such a grave decision and still, he had been so calm and nonchalant about it._

_“He was barely twenty,” one of his comrades said putting a hand on his shoulder, a gesture which he knew was meant to be reassuring as a sign of shared grief, but it wasn’t. It only made him want to recoil further into himself and he had to fight hard to hide what it did to him. He knew he would face a hearing about what has happened and he had to justify his actions. He couldn’t let them smell his self-doubts for what he had done. He couldn’t let them see that he was questioning his decision. He had done the right thing. He knew he had. That became his mantra for dealing with what happened in Jalalabad._


	12. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and sorry for this chapter being a short one. I'm working hard on doing better!

Jack took another gulp from his glass and poured more of the brown burning liquid into it. He was wallowing in self-pity. He knew that and it disgusted him. He should act like a man. He should get up and walk over to Mac and talk to him. Ask him why he had never said a word about it. Why didn’t he rat on him? At that time they had been far away from the friendship they developed and which led Jack to go for another round only to be there for the kid – his kid. He got up and went over to the kitchen counter where he had put his car keys. He had to do something. He was drunk. Definitely too drunk to even consider to drive to Mac, but this was nothing one could solve through a phone call. Then he looked out of his window. It was dark – pitch black. He could hardly see the lights of the street lamps. The light of the street - the neighbouring houses and the cars passing by, the street lamps - was wrapped into thick layers of fog. He shook his head. This was a bad idea. Driving in this weather, in his state would solve nothing. He dropped the keys back onto the counter and flopped down on his couch. Maybe he should call though. But it was late and the display of his phone told him that Mac had tried countless times to talk to him. He had sent him straight to voicemail. It wasn’t right to interrupt the kid’s sleep now for selfish reasons. Though, Jack knew the kid would pick up and listen to everything he had to say. He pushed the phone further onto the table out of his reach and went on drinking.

He was woken by knocking at his door. It was not one knock, but several knocks going in the rhythm of the pounding in his head. He opened his eyes and squinted. The sun shone through his windows. He had fallen asleep on his couch. His cloths were all rumpled and he felt the sour taste of the last evening in his mouth. The knocking on his door didn’t subside. The rhythm increased. He got up. He needed some time to focus on his surroundings. The liquor was still passing through his system and made him feel funny. When he spotted the half empty glass on the table he didn’t think but automatically grabbed it and gulped the rest of the liquid down. The burning helped a little to get his bearings back and he went to open the door.

“Jack, man. What took you so long?” Riley asked him accusingly before pushing him aside and entering his apartment. She brought coffee and bagels and looked good. Jack had to admit that.

“What brings me the pleasure?” Jack asked her gesturing at the coffee and the bagels. It was a concerned wrinkle between her brows that set him off. She always got that look when there were serious conversations coming up.

“Bozer’s on a wrath and I wanted to warn you,” she replied and sighed. She really looked concerned.

“Why?” he asked her. He didn’t understand the source for her concern. He didn’t understand what was going on.

“Well, he said something about a fight between you and Mac. So, seriously Jack, what did you do this time?” Riley asked him one eye brow crooked with suspicion. Jack huffed and indeed it hurt him that even Riley instantly thought that he was the reason for the mentioned fight.

“Who says that it’s always my fault?” he countered. He still wasn’t sure whether he really was to blame for anything. The lines between those who were to blame and those who were not tended to be blurry and he was trying hard to stand on the side of those who weren’t.

“Big mouth of yours and words coming out of it faster than you’re actually capable of thinking?”

“I didn’t say anything! I admit, I was and still am pissed that you got shot only because of his miscalculations. And, Riley, seriously you have to admit since all this daddy-debacle, he’s a little off his game, isn’t he? And it’s my job to protect the team. That means all of us, including you and Bozer. However, protecting you gets a little difficult if Baby Einstein is not one hundred percent focused. So it was my job to make sure that he either gets his bearings back together or takes a break!” Jack justified what he had said and done, but was met by a look of disbelieve.

“What the hell did you do, Jack?” Riley asked frantically.

“I…” oh shit, he then thought. He might have meant what he said and he was still convinced that Mac needed a break. But there was maybe one tiny little detail in their last conversation with which he might have gotten a little too far. He revoked the Wookie-life debt. This action grew to a whole new dimension after he was told that Mac probably very well remembered what happened in Jalalabad.

“What is it Jack?” Riley asked impatiently. In this, she was like her mother, Diana. She would not ask for answer, but demand them and if she didn’t get them, she would demand them again, but not nicely.

“I…” Jack was cut off by a knock on the door which then was opened by a very angry looking Bozer. Jack wouldn’t have been surprised if his head would have been highly red with steam coming out of his ear.

“Are you happy now? What did you think you were doing giving Mac such a run down? Yeah, maybe he did make a mistake. But hey, he’s just a human being like we all are and we all do make mistakes and he never reacts like a total asshole like you did!” Bozer screamed shoving Jack further into the living room of the apartment. This physical onslaught caught Jack totally off guard which was why he did need some time to fend Bozer off.

“Boze, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? This is something between Mac and me,” Jack wanted to tell Bozer to back off and shut up. He was certain Mac didn’t need Bozer as his bodyguard. At some point, Jack was sure, Mac would turn up and make him talks things through. They were talking about Mac. He had his means and the tricky thing about it was that Jack still never saw it coming.

“What I’m thinking? What the hell were you thinking when you revoked your Wookie-life debt?” Bozer bit back and at that very moment Jack could feel Riley’s glances on him like tiny flying needles, but each one reaching its target and now sticking in his skin.

“You did what? Jack!” Riley exclaimed.

“Yeah, I know. This one might have been a little over the top. But you have to admit that he seems a little distracted lately. He needs to be protected from himself!” Jack tried to prove his good intentions, but he failed. The looks on Riley’s and Bozer’s face told him that.

“Jack, you have to sort that out!” Riley told him and he sighed. He knew that. Since last night he was convinced that he had to talk to Mac and maybe he needed to apologize a tiny little bit for the revoking thing.

“Yeah, well good luck with that,” Bozer snorted snarky. Riley tilted her head.

“What do you mean with that?” Jack could count on her understanding subtitles fluently, which Jack was incapable to get.

“He left this morning. The army asked for him. Apparently there is a new bomb freak out there and now he and Charlie went back to Afghanistan to find out how to deal with it,” Bozer explained. This was something Jack didn’t expected and heck, it was something he hoped he would never hear again.


	13. Back in the Sandbox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this stody and thank you for your idea and suggestions!!

Mac and Charlie lent against the Humvee squinting into the sun. There were dark clouds on the horizon. But they were no bearers of rain, but the evidence of yet another bomb, which they failed to defuse. Mac felt sweat tickling down his spine. The hot desert air was suffocating him. He really had forgotten how hard it was to work here in the dry desert in the middle of somewhat nowhere. He took a deep breathe, but regretted it instantly as the hot air felt like burning his nostrils.

“Shit! We’re really getting nowhere,” Charlie exclaimed frantically. Mac stood and listened. Charlie was taking this job personally. Hell, he should too. But somehow he felt awkwardly detached from it, like it had nothing to do with him. Maybe it was a good sign. Maybe it meant that somewhere on the road of dealing with three years in the sandbox he finally had made peace with it.

“At least we’re now able to find them before they go off. That’s already a huge step,” Mac reminded Charlie. It was usually much more difficult to detect an IED than to disarm it. At least with their new found detection method there was a chance of rescuing lives.

“I know, but it’s still frustrating not being able to get behind this thing…it feels like the Ghost all over again,” Charlie admitted and Mac had to agree with him. This had been his first thought, too. But the pieces of the puzzle didn’t fit together. This wasn’t the Ghost’s handwriting.

“I doubt it’s the Ghost. The IEDs are placed too frequent and too arbitrary. There is no real plan visible. The Ghost acts more considerate, with a clear target,” Mac explained his considerations to Charlie. It often was good to find out who you dealt with. It helped to find out how the person would act the next time and you could be a step ahead. But Mac had no idea, who could be behind these IEDs.

“Sure, but the mechanism behind those IEDs must be very sophisticated. Whoever is behind this, he has to be an expert and that would be the Ghost,” Charlie pointed out. Mac looked at him and then back to the dark clouds.

“How do we know that? I mean, we haven’t seen one IED in one piece. We don’t know how it’s build,” Mac strew in.

“But how does it come every time we’re near one of these IEDs, it goes off?” Charlie made his point. Mac nodded in acknowledgement. He had been thinking about it either, but hasn’t had much of a creative idea.

“There’s someone waiting for us and sets it off when we’re close enough to see it?” Mac suggested knowing how unconvincing this sounded since currently they were standing in the middle of nowhere with no place for anyone to hide.

“Satellite and drones? This would again speak for the Ghost,” Charlie countered. 

“I doubt we’ll find the answer debating in this desert,” Mac replied. Charlie nodded and then they got back into the Humvee heading back to the base.

Back at the base, Mac was having a look at the remains from the last IED. But again, the heat developing through the explosion had destroyed nearly everything. There wasn’t much left to be looked at not even speaking about examining. Mac sighed. Charlie’s frustration about their situation was rubbing off on him.

“I hate to break it to you, but we’ll have to have a closer look at the next IED we’ll find,” Charlie said approaching him from behind. He knew what he was indicating. Getting near such an IED was a risk. They never knew when it would be set off. There was a high risk of going kaboom. On the other hand, this was probably their only chance to understand the mechanics behind it.

“I agree,” Mac replied and turned around to face Charlie. He looked tired. Mac felt it, too. Their comrades counted on them. They were the experts who were supposed to stop the maniac and help them survive in the sandbox, but after three weeks now they had accomplished nearly to nothing. They were sent there to solve a problem, but they didn’t even get near the puzzle.

“You know, I’m glad you joined me here. I really thought you’d dismiss this mission. I wouldn’t have held it against you if you had,” Charlie said dropping down next to Mac handing him a cold beer.

“So tell me, why did you agree to come here?” Charlies asked suspiciously. Count on him smelling a trick a hundred miles against the wind. But this was why he was so good – the best – in his job, wasn’t it? The capability to see a scam on instant and not being fooled by anything or anyone.

“I needed a change,” Mac replied honestly and took a sip of the cold beer. The coolness felt refreshing in his throat. He knew he had to be honest with Charlie, but he also knew he had to get out of this conversation. He didn’t want Charlie to worry. Charlie needed him one hundred percent. He didn’t question Mac’s stability for this job. There was too much at risk. He has already lost too much for whatever ghosts were hunting him - his father or rather the insecurity his revelations had caused inside of Mac.

“Yeah I heard you found your father. I guess that is a lot to come to terms with,” Charlie said sounding as casually as possible. Charlie sensed he was about to enter forbidden terrain and Mac sensed it too, so he had to put the defences up to make sure nobody trespassed it.

“Somehow it’s strange to find out that your father had been around all the time, while you were thinking he was gone for good,” Mac replied thinking about escape tactics. He was finally able to rebuild those walls which had seemed so close to crashing down on him, especially after his fallout with Jack. He couldn’t risk any sort of destabilisation. He needed them intact. Especially on their current op. He simply couldn’t afford to fail this one, too. He came to the realisation that maybe Jack and his father had been right and he was off his game. He needed to get back on track and being here with Charlie was helping, but only because he wasn’t continuously reminded of what went on back in L.A.

“So I jumped at this chance to get away for some time,” he admitted hoping to find a corner to turn this conversation around.

“What does Jack say about it?” Charlies asked innocently, but Mac sensed where this was leading to or rather, Charlie was telling him that he realised that something between Mac and Jack was off, too.

“What should he have to say about this?” Mac tried to fend off the question knowing well that this was futile. Charlie wouldn’t let it go, at least not until he had gained some information on this matter.

“C’mon Mac. You two are partners and your co-dependency is legendary among all other agencies. You know what they say? If you want Mac you have to take Jack,” Charlie replied. Mac felt he couldn’t be any further away from any sort of co-dependency. Right now, he felt better off without Jack. Whatever bond had been between them, it had been cut off harshly. And then Mac decided what the hell and that Carlie deserved the truth.

“He was actually the one suggesting for me to take a break from the Phoenix,” Mac replied.

“You mean, he wanted to bench you,” Charlie picked up on the subtle undertone. Mac only shrugged in response. He didn’t feel like saying these words out loud. He couldn't admit to himself that someone he considered a friend - someone who had grown to some sort of fathery figure - was capable of leaving him hanging like that.

“What happened?” Charlie asked, after Mac wasn’t going to elaborate on the topic and Mac wasn’t sure what Charlie would think if he told him. He feared that Charlie would consider him a risk and sent him back to L.A. There was no place on earth he wanted to be less than L.A. He was literally running from that place.

“Our last op, Riley was injured because I made a mistake,” Mac admitted. Charlie simply nodded. Not saying a word, but Mac could see that he was thinking deeply. He braced himself for Charlie asking him to pack his things and leave. He didn’t expect what was to come next:

“That hapnes to the best. You know, I could always use a smart head like yours. So if the Phoenix doesn’t suit you anymore…” Charlie trailed off and Mac smirked. Not only had he given him a good opportunity to turn the conversation, but he also opened him an opportunity to leave it all behind: L.A., his father, the trouble with Jack. It was worth thinking about it.

“Are you offering me a job?” Mac asked teasingly.

“Well, I’m just taking my chances here. You’re unhappy with your current situation and I admit I’m willing to make full use of it,” Charlie admitted jokingly.

“I’ll think about it. I will,” Mac replied honestly. Maybe this was what he needed. Mac could hear his grandpa’s voice in the back of his head telling him that running away from problems didn’t solve them. But Mac didn’t have the courage to actually solve them let alone the energy. He just wanted some time to get back to his normal self. When he had picked up the pieces from what had gotten damaged during the last few months and when he had managed to reinstall is self-defence systems, which were supposed to block all onslaughts, maybe then he’d be able to go into the actual mode of solving. But right now, he wasn’t ready for it.


	14. The Trap

The tunnel they were walking through was narrow and dark. It stored the thick heat from outside. He was sweating like hell. They had to leave their bomb suits behind. They wouldn’t have been able to reach the storage they were heading for otherwise. Who the hell stored weapons and explosives in caves? Well, fuck it. They were in Afghanistan and if here was one thing dangerous about that place, it was the countless number of caves carved into the mountains. They were used for everything: storages, terrorist cells, meeting points or action points from which to launch attacks against the air force. It was these caves which made life for all those soldiers stationed in Afghanistan hell, because they bore dangerous secrets and ambushes.

They both knew how dangerous this was. But it was their first face to face encounter with such an IED and Mac felt nervous. The concentration displayed on Charlie’s face told him that he felt the same. They had gotten a ‘hint’ from a secret source. This thought made his neck hair stay on end. A secret source could mean everything from jackpot to trap. They knew it. No matter how hard they tried to validate the information, there was always a risk. One could never know about the trustworthiness of an informant.

Mac could feel his heart pound heavily against his chest. He slowed down his breathing to calm his nerves and to have something else to concentrate on. He had to be prepared and had to get his focus back. He knew Charlie was doing the same. Every EOD tech had his own way of preparing himself for the job of defusing a bomb, but most of them relied on breathing technics. 

They finally reached the storage. It was stacked with wooden crates, too big to be moved by one person. Surveillance had informed them that this storage was full packed with ammo, weapons and explosives. Charlie and he had debated as to whether it was wise entering it and decided to go in. This was their first real chance of getting a closer look at one of those horrible IEDs before it was set off. They took into consideration that this was a trap and that they might not make it out unscathed if it was. On the other hand, how much longer would they have to wait for another chance? Both of them were certain that without looking at an intact piece, they would never find a way to disarm these bombs. Detecting them had been one milestone, but it didn’t help much if it was hidden in a village or near an army base. A controlled detonation was impossible here.

“Let’s see what we can find here,” Charlie said and Mac nodded. They started to carefully open the crates and peeked inside to see whether they were lucky to finally find an IED. The boxes were stuffed with wood wool, but apart from that, they were mostly empty. Only a few bits and pieces of ammo left here and there. Mac felt how he was getting antsy. There was something lingering in the atmosphere which he didn’t like. He felt trapped. 

“I don’t have a good feeling about this. I think we should turn around and make a quick exit,” Mac suggested to Charlie. He hated saying these words, because experience told him after those words were said, everything had a tendency to turn south.

“You sure? Damn, Mac, this is our first and maybe only chance to get a good look at such a thing,” Charlie replied and Mac could fully understand him. Their frustration was growing with each day passing by without them having found out anything, but still. Mac opened one of the crates. There was nothing in it, which could help their case. It were old spare parts from weapons and whatever appliances – maybe cars, maybe tools. Mac couldn’t tell. Other boxes were stuffed with wooden wool, but underneath was nothing but old rusted pieces of metal. Mac had no idea, who would keep this stuff. Not even he would be capable of building something useful from it. This realisation let his worry increase.

“Charlie, you realise that these boxes are empty? What if this is a trap?” Mac asked him explaining his concern. His nerves were at the edge. His bad feeling was growing. He never had a well-developed flight syndrome, but it started to kick in and he was reluctant to ignore it.

“Yeah, but not all. Look at this one,” Charlies said grinning victory. Mac walked over to him and peeked into the box. Charlie was right. That was exactly what they were looking for.

“That looks quite professional” Mac concluded from the look of the device. There weren’t any lose cables sticking out of it, but they were well hidden under a layer of foil. This wasn’t the work of someone who was creating bombs from the scratch like terrorists usually did. This was a well-planned device.

“This is far away from being an improvised device,” Charlie concluded. Mac handed him his Swiss army knife so he could cut away the foil wrapped around it. When he pulled the foil aside a complicated mechanism of wires and relays was revealed.

“This is even worse than I thought,” Charlie commented. Mac took a closer look at the device. Usually, he would be glad to see the timer being switched off, but he wasn’t. It rather made him even antsier. He nudged Charlie carefully aside to get a closer look at the timer. He focused on the right corner of it. It was a little lifted, as if someone had tried to peel the timer off.

“Charlie, I think we should go, NOW,” Mac said with a determining baritone. Charlie shook his head, not understanding why Mac was suddenly shoving him back into the direction of the tunnel through which they had come through.

“Mac…,” but Mac cut him off.

“The timer’s a fucking fake. The thing might go off any second!” Mac insisted and it got Charlie running. Mac let Charlie pass him and then followed suit. Mac pushed him from behind to indicate that they should run faster. His instincts had been right. This was a trap.


	15. Kaboom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One and a short one ;) You got me working :D

He ran as fast as he could, pushing Charlie from behind to make him hurry. He could see the light streaming through the tunnel. They were close to the exit. Unfortunately it was the only exit – for them and the blast. And although they could see it, it was still so awfully far away. They still didn’t have enough distance between them and the explosives. Suddenly Mac realised that all the spare parts and rotten metal made actually sense. It just wasn’t something he’d consider using it for.

He ran as fast as he could. The muscles in his legs were burning, so where his lungs from the hard fast going breaths. He’s always been a good runner, even back in the army days, but the gear felt too heavy. He wasn’t getting forward far enough. He felt his legs growing heavy, but he ignored it pushing his body further and further. The blood rushed loudly through his ears. The adrninaline flow made is puls seeping and his skin tickling. The exit came closer, but they were still not there. Mac knew that there was not enough room for them and the blast and the blast would definitely win the battle for space.

“Go, go, go!” Mac screamed once more hoping to animate Charlie to run a little faster. They were close to the exit. They were nearing it. He saw Charlie exiting the tunnel. He felt the heat coming. In a reflex he covered his head with his arms slung around it. He felt the heat connecting with his body when the blast hit him from behind forcing the air out of his lungs. Shrapnel filled the air followed by a fire wave. A sharp ringing in his ears replaced the noise of the blood rushing.

His head felt like exploding. He had no time to process the impact of the heat on his skin when his feet lost contact to the ground and he was lifted up and slammed into the direction of the tunnel’s exit hitting the walls in that process. He had lost control. There was nothing he could do anymore. First he saw how the exit of the tunnel flew towards him in an indefinite rush – or was it him? He had lost orientation. Then suddenly the power of the blast ebbed away and gravitation claimed back control over his body. He slammed down onto the ground which forced the last bit of oxygen out of his lungs which he didn’t know he had left. Before he even realised what happened, he was engulfed in darkness.


	16. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I took a few days off, I decided to write a little ;) Thank you for reading this story, for the lovely Kudos and your comments. I appriciate them all! :D

The first thing Charlie realised when he came to was the sharp ringing in his ears and a pounding headache. It felt as if he had lost all his senses. He had trouble seeing straight when he opened his eyes, but he saw that he had made it out of the tunnel before the blast. He tasted the dust on his tongue and he felt like suffocating. He fought to draw in a proper breath, but was rewarded with a hard coughing fit. His lungs protested against the heavy dust that had settled in his chest after the blast. He tried to move, but there was a heavy weight on his back. He slowly crawled from underneath the weight, glad not to be buried under some heavy rubble. It took him much effort to crawl out from whatever had been lying on him, though.

He lay flat on his stomach breathing heavily. He squinted against the sharp sun light. They had been able to get quite a good distance between them and the blast. At some point, his olfaction kicked in. He smelled dust, copper and burnt meat. The perfume of destruction as Charlie and his mates used to call it when he was still serving in the army. His vision started to clear, but the ringing in his ears didn’t subside. It would take a while.

Charlie tried to get up on all his four limbs. His arms were shaking heavily. His body felt heavy. The smell grew heavier and he started gagging. It took all his forces to refrain from throwing up. He had a hard time struggling to get onto his fours. His muscles were protesting against the weight but he kept pushing his upper body up so he could sit back on his heels. He assessed the damage done. His uniform was shredded. There were burns and bruises, but he didn’t see any heavy injuries. This, however, was only a good thing on first sight. He turned around, suddenly realising that he hadn’t been alone.

“Mac?” he called out and then turned his head to see where his friend was. His head started spinning and he felt nauseous. His glance went back to where he had come to and spotted a lifeless bundle.

“Shit,” Charlies exhaled and crawled over to Mac. He hadn’t been buried under rubble but Mac. His heart raced. Mac didn’t make a noise and he didn’t move or even stir. The sight of his friend made him retch again. This time he had no power over his reflexes and spilled his stomach contents. Charlie took a few breaths to calm himself. He had to help his friend. He hoped there was still something left to help with and a cold fear got hold of him.

“No, no, no, no,” Charlie whispered while approaching Mac. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not on his watch. Not now and definitely not after Mac had warned him. Fuck, why didn’t he listened to him, Charlie thought but shook it off immediately. He had to help Mac first. Later he would have enough time to blame himself.

He finally reached Mac, but he didn’t like what he saw. Mac lay on his stomach his head turned to his side. His cheek was bleeding heavily from tiny shrapnel wounds like pin needles were stuck in his face. There was a piece of shrapnel sticking out of his back and the condition of Mac’s uniform told him that this wasn’t the only piece of shrapnel lodged in the young man’s body. His arms were torn from shrapnel too and bleeding heavily while the skin around was burnt. Charlie approached him carefully. He wanted to touch him, but didn’t dare. There didn’t seem a spot on his body that wasn’t burnt or pierced by shrapnel. Slowly he moved forward.

“Shit. Mac? Can you hear me?” Charlie brushed a hand over the young man’s face. With trembling hands he was feeling Mac’s neck for a pulse and he was relieved to find one. It was weak and irregular, but it meant that his friend was still alive. This was going to be a nasty recovery Charlie thought, but he was rather willing to let Mac suffer through recovery of burns and shrapnel pieces than letting him die in that fucking dirty desert. Absentmindedly he coded for help not caring whether he coded according to protocol, not even recognising the words he spoke. He simply asked for help ASAP.

“Hey Mac, c’mon. We need to get out of here,” Charlie urged his friend to come back to consciousness. He was afraid that they wouldn’t be alone for much longer, because he came to think that this probably really had been a trap set up for them. Charlie’s glance travelled down Mac’s body, realising that his legs were partially buried by some rubble set lose after the explosion. He carefully lifted it away. Then he went back to Mac’s head.

“Mac, c’mon man. It’s not the best time for taking a nap,” Charlie tried to coax Mac back into the world of the living. He was startled by a soft groan that escaped Mac’s lips. Charlie watched Mac coming back through. 

“Hey Mac, c’mon,” Charlie went on persuading his friend of waking up – pleading him to open his eyes. He was glad when finally one eye opened looking at him.

“Hey Mac, think you could get up?” Charlie asked carefully. He wanted to get Mac to the Humvee. In case of an attack they could hide behind or even in it. It also provided protection from the hot desert sun. His own body was sore all over. It would be an ordeal to walk the short distance there. But he was also certain that Mac wasn’t in any condition to make the exit on his own. He would need his help and Charlie would help all he could.

“Dunno,” Mac’s slurred, his voice being nothing but a whisper. Charlie clenched his jaw to regain control over his emotions. He couldn’t lose it now. He had not get Mac out of the sun.

“C’mon, I'll help you to get up. We need to get away from here, before the enemy finds out about our little trespass,” Charlie explained trying to lighten the atmosphere. In fact, he had never been more frightened in his life. He had watched people die, but he had never experienced losing a friend and he didn’t plan on experiencing it soon. Carefully he lifted Mac’s right arm and slid under it draping Mac’s arm around his shoulder and slowly heaving Mac’s weight to get him back onto his feet. Charlie felt how Mac struggled to get up, which was accompanied by a painful hiss.

“Okay, let’s get going,” Charlie said his optimism failing him at the sight of a shrapnel piece spearing through Mac’s left side exiting closely beneath his ribs. Charlie didn’t need a medical degree to know that this one was bad. A through and through. Charlie felt the weight of Mac growing heavier. It was obvious that the young man had trouble keeping himself upright and it was only a matter of time until he would collapse again. Charlie felt his muscles burn under the strain. His head started pounding from the blood rushing through his veins. His breath was going fast. He was thankful for every inch they made it forward to the Humvee.

“Leave m…behind,” Mac whispered suddenly looking straight into his face. Of course he would do so. Charlie should have seen it coming, but still wasn’t prepared for this self-sacrificing gesture, which rather scared him. Mac would demand to be left behind, because protocol said own safety first and that included leaving the injured behind. But fuck off protocol. He wouldn’t leave Mac behind. He owed it to the kid. They all owed it to him. He never left anyone behind no matter the odds and Charlie would honour this by doing the same.

“Not happening. I’m not leaving you behind Mac, not you,” Charlie said and tears started trickling down his cheek, because he could tell Mac was so awfully injured. Damn, he wasn’t ready to have a friend die in his arms.


	17. Bad News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey it's Sturday and I havea new chapter :D Let's start working on Jack or with Jack? Thank you for reading!

Jack didn’t know what earned him this solo invitation to the war room, but was content to find out soon. Since Mac went to Afghanistan Riley, Bozer and he had been only on a handful of missions as a team. Matty had decided to ‘lend’ them to other teams. Jack didn’t like that much. Working with different teams was difficult, because you didn’t know who you were working with. Those people were strangers and that made accomplishing a mission grow into a whole new dimension of complicated. With Riley, Bozer and Mac, there was not much communication needed. He watched them and anticipated what was going to happen next. It worked. They knew each other and they could read each other. Okay, to be fair, it was sometimes a little difficult to see behind Mac’s poker face, but it never compromised a mission. It more than often compromised his and Mac’s health, but that he could live with. That was their job.

Now, Jack experienced how dangerous this job actually was if you worked with people who you barely knew. He’s been on a mission with this geek Gordon. He didn’t have half the brains Mac had, but had the triple ego and behaved like those geeks usually behaved – smug and egocentric. Jack had hated him the second they met. At first, Jack appreciated that unlike Mac this Gordon geek didn’t have the tendency to explain the mechanics and chemistry and physics and maths and what else behind his plan. He hated him for that when he later found out that he didn’t explain his plans, because he believed Jack wouldn’t understand him anyway. Well, that guy thought of himself as a genius that could hardly be understood by normal human beings. Jack really hated him and his attitude. This mission went its usual way south. They had to hide in a store room. It was packed with stuff. It didn’t help though. When he asked Gordon how he planned to get them out of the building stuffed with bad guys hunting them, he had just looked up at Jack and shrugged his shoulders. He simply told him that it was actually Jack’s job to get them out. He was only there to complete the mission: retrieve a whatever thingamaboo. It was that very second when he wished Mac was there with him. He had to shoot them out. It had been pure luck that they made it out alive. When they reached ex-fil ,Gordon collapsed into a pile of misery and started crying like a baby. Jack felt disgusted. On top of everything Gordon had the drive to complain about Jack afterwards. He would have loved to pummel this guy, but was stopped by Matty.

At least Riles and Bozer were luckier. They were condemned to stay put and accomplish their missions from the Phoenix. No field work for them. Jack was relieved about this, because he couldn’t get a peaceful second knowing that Riley and Bozer were out there without his help. He didn’t trust anyone else with his team. And the Gordon-debacle showed him that he was right.

He finally reached the war room. The door was open. Matty sat on one of the sofas deeply lost in thoughts. Jack entered the room, but Matty didn’t seem to notice, while she was staring into the empty space before her. Whatever it was, she was entirely consumed by it. This was one of the rare occasions Jack met her not fully alert to her surroundings. In fact, he had never met her like this. She was the one who lectured him about how dangerous such distraction was in their line of job, but there she sat completely absorbed by whatever thought. Jack stepped a little closer, the sun beams blocked by his body drawing a shadow over Matty. But still no reaction. There were lines of worry drawn over her forehead and around her mouth. If Jack didn’t know Matty any better, he would say she looked deeply shaken. But this was Matty the Hun. She wasn’t shaken by anything. She was rock solid. Nothing got to her.

“You asked me to stop by?” Jack finally made his presence known to Matty, who at first didn’t react but then slowly lifted her head to face him. There was something in her eyes that scared him. He had never seen that before. Some sort of rough emotion deeply rooted inside of her. It felt like this look and these eyes were revealing a part of Matty, which she usually carefully hid. There was vulnerability in her eyes as if she was hit by something which got to her core. This realisation got Jack worried.

“Yeah, good that you’re here,” she replied turning towards him while he sat down on the sofa in front of her to meet her face to face. She slid forward, their knees nearly touching. She looked into his eyes. There was still this look in hers. She was allowing him to look into a deep sadness and vulnerability and Jack was confused as to what earned him this honour.

“Okay Matty, this is creepy. What’s going on?” Jack tried to break free from the tension he was about to be wrapped up in. Matty sighed as if preparing herself for something.

“There was an explosion in a storage near Jalalabad,” she opened and as soon as the words had left her mouth it dawned to Jack what she was about to tell him. He shook his head. This couldn’t be true. Not now and never. His chest tightened. He had trouble breathing. This was a nightmare becoming true. He felt how every fibre in his body tensed up, while emotionally he started to crumble.

“Don’t tell me…” Jack said stopping mid-sentence, because he lacked all words. He couldn’t phrase the sentence which expressed what he feared – his primal fear. His stomach was tied into knots. He started to feel sick. All he could think of was that this wasn’t supposed to happen and that there were so many things they had to talk through, issues to resolve. They weren’t supposed to part like this, not after a fight leaving him without a chance to make it right again.

“Charlie and Mac were involved,” Matty said confirming what Jack had wished for never to have to hear. He shook his head. He felt the sting of tears forming in his eyes. It was a seldom feeling. He rarely cried – the last time when his father died, but now it was hard to fight the tears which started building. He took a few shaky breaths.

“Is he…?” Jack wasn’t able to speak out those words. Matty shook her head, but that didn’t soothe him, because she was still so dark around the edges. It was bad.

“He’s alive, then?” Jack wanted, no he needed that confirmation from Matty, but he didn’t receive it. She was looking at him instead, apologetic and sympathy displayed in her eyes. His heart started to ache. There were so many things he needed to tell Mac. No, actually there was only one thing he needed to tell Mac. He had to tell Mac what he really meant to him.

“He’s alive, but in a severe condition. They’re trying to stabilise him so they can transport him to Germany for treatment. But they…don’t know whether he’ll make it,” she explained to him with a shaking voice and suddenly Jack knew that she was worried, too. He rubbed his hands over his face spreading the tears all over his face. He made a decision and nobody could stop him now.

“Sorry Matty, I have to go. If it’s really that critical, I can’t stay here,” Jack explained. He had to be with him now. He would regret it if he stayed and waited and then…He didn’t dare to finish that track of thoughts. He couldn’t sit still here and wait. If he didn’t get a chance to talk to Mac about their fight and what had actually gotten into him then, he at least wanted to get a chance to say goodbye. He couldn’t part with Mac in complete ignorance of what had happened.

“I know. Wheels up in 20 minutes,” Matty replied having anticipated his reaction and he was grateful for it. Jack jumped from his seat and was about to leave, when Matty called after him.

“Jack”, she asked and he turned around. “Take care of your kid,” she simply said and he nodded. She understood how he felt and knew what he had to do and he was grateful. He felt grateful for not having to explain himself.

When Jack was gone, Matty took another deep breath. This had been the easy part, but she had also to talk to James and she dreaded that conversation. In her head she had phrased and rephrased the sentences with which she would approach him and break the bad news. He had been deadly against Mac going back to Afghanistan. He had been outright furious with her when he found out she talked to Mac about that job before talking to him. But she was confident that this was the one and only right decision. Mac needed the distance to collect his thoughts and to come to terms with what he found out. Mac needed Charlie as a friend, who although a friend, could put a more objective perspective on this matter. Jack, Bozer, Riley were emotionally biased – especially Jack - and couldn’t help Mac. They were too closely involved in Mac’s journey, but Mac needed someone helping him deal with it rationally. Mac needed someone guiding him out of the emotional jungle he found himself lost in. And hell, Matty knew that Mac was brilliant and that there was nothing he couldn’t deal with, but handling emotions was one of those few things he utterly failed in. She didn’t blame him. Dealing with emotional pitfalls was something only his mother could’ve taught him properly. This was a lesson learnt from the parents, but Mac lost his mother too early and James himself wasn’t a person who knew how to deal with emotions. Neither did Mac’s grandfather. They all had good – the best - intentions but were way too rational and collected as if to teach a child proper coping mechanisms. At this stage Matty regretted having helped Mac finding his father. Maybe it would have been for the best to let matters rest and let Mac forget about the issue. But she was also certain that at some point James would have made the first move and she wanted to prevent this. This way she at least could pretend having some sort of control. She had wanted to prepare Mac for what he was about to find, to prepare him for who and especially what his father was. Now, after seeing what chaos it caused, she doubted her decision.

But it wasn’t only Mac she was worried about. Ever since Mac found out about his father, she feared what that would do to the team. The fight between Mac and Jack had only been the evidence for how close this team was about to break apart. Mac had been the one being able to hold all of them together, but the turmoil his father’s revelations have sent him to took too much of his energy. Energy he usually spent to be there for his friends, to be their anchor and solid rock to rely on. He lost his ability to offer this security and protection, which left his team mates –his friends – reeling in the space of their emotions, their self-doubts and fears. They were insecure and she was content to know that this insecurity had been noticed by Jack as well which only had spiked his fear of losing one of his “kids”. Maybe she should have placed Mac with another team for a while. She shook her head. Now she had to deal with the possibility of Mac never coming back again and what that would do to the team, she didn’t even dare to think about.

“Matty?” James entered the room and his deep stern voice dragged her back to reality. Her thoughts still lingering in the back of her mind, though.

“Hey James,” she said. How to tell the one man, who had saved her life more times than she was capable to count, that her decision, which he didn’t approve to from the very beginning, had sent his son’s life into limbo?

“I thought I just come by. So what was the matter you wanted to talk about with me?”

“It’s about Mac,” better get over with it, Matty thought, “He was caught in an explosion. He’s severely injured and in a critical condition,” Matty said straight away watching James MacGyver react by non-reaction. She would lie if she said that she did expect something different. James MacGyver wasn’t just the person for showing any emotions, no matter how hard something hit him. Even after the death of his wife, he stayed collected and kept his composure. Compartmentalising him from the pain and loss, he went on with his job. And when asked how he did do it, he would plainly answer with being a professional. When James didn’t speak, Matty went on.

“If they’ve stabilised him they’ll fly him to Germany for proper treatment and recovery,” she explained to him. James nodded.

“I want him here,” he simply replied. She was taken aback by the matter-of-factly way James posed his order to her.

“James, I don’t think the doctors will approve such a long transport. Getting him to Germany is already bound to immense risks,” she explained on. She wasn’t sure what James expected or if he maybe didn’t understand what she was trying to tell him.

“I want him here, Matty.” It took all of her willpower not to scream into James’ face that this was a selfish idea which was probably about to cost his son’s life. It was an entirely unnecessary risk.

“James…”, she tried once again, but was silenced by hand risen into the air telling her to stop talking.

“I want him here and I want the doctors to retain his fitness for the field. I need him back for our missions,” with this said in brisk voice he turned around and left Matty standing. She still wasn’t sure what has just happened, nor was she sure whether this was the time to disobey an order. She could only hope that James had a good reason for his reaction. She prayed for it.


	18. Iron Man is not fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you for your time and reading this story.

The flight to Afghanistan was long- too long. Jack didn’t get any rest. His nerves were ragged. Matty had updated him regularly on Mac’s condition making sure he knew that he wasn’t going to be too late. His body felt sore and he was tired as hell when he finally arrived, but there was no way he would get any rest if he hadn’t seen Mac.

So here he was back walking through barracks of which he thought he would never see them again. He thought he and Mac had left this behind. Boy, had they been relieved when their time was up and they were on their way back to the States. They had made a promise to each other to never come back again. Somehow, Mac didn’t keep his promise or Jack hadn’t been able to make him keep it. He couldn’t tell. The hot desert air was burning his skin and although he was only wearing a t-shirt and cargo pants, he felt like suffocating. He watched all the soldiers walk around in their gear. He’s been one of them and now he realised how hard this job was: the sacrifices one had to make, the strain this country put onto you physically and mentally, the risks they were all exposed to. For every one of them there was so much at stake and still, they came here to serve their country and Jack felt pride rise in him. These young boys and girls were out here to protect their country as well as numberless civilians and Mac had been here to protect them. And they deserved it. They deserved to have the best of all people out here with them to protect their lives. However, Mac didn’t deserve to go kaboom here and die in this hell hole. He was supposed to grow old and tell his grandkids funny stories – their stories. He was supposed to be the crazy uncle for Jack’s kids, who would show them all the fun things one could do with household appliances.

He walked into the infirmary. He hasn’t been here often. He was one of the lucky ones. A scrape here and a there, but never severely injured, until he started working for the DXS, that was. Sometimes he thought that his luck was running out, but maybe he was just getting old or it was just like Mac said: the probability of getting actually hit increased exponentially since they started working for the DXS. There was no way of getting out lucky each time and this time was such a time. Only Jack wished he had been there, although he probably couldn’t have done anything to prevent it, but at least, he would have been there. It occurred to Jack that he didn’t know whether Mac had been a regular visitor to infirmary. He only knew of one time, after Jalalabad. He didn’t know about the time before the two were partnered up, though. Maybe something, he should have asked Mac.

Jack once more appreciated that Matty must have announced his visit. There was no need for much explaining once he told a nurse his name and who he was looking for. However, the apologetic looks on their faces didn’t stay hidden for Jack. He hated these looks, which always told you that the news was bad news. When he was about to approach Mac’s room, he saw Charlie exiting it. He looked exhausted and worry was written all over his face.

“Jack?” he asked when he saw Jack coming towards him. His pace quickened to greet Jack in a full-hearted hug of which Jack wasn’t sure whether to return it or not. But damn, he was one of Mac’s friends and Jack was glad that there was one familiar soul there, who would go with him through this.

“Hey, Charlie, how are you?” Jack asked when Charlie finally let go off him and gave Jack a chance to have a closer look at him. There was a dark bruise forming on his cheek. His eyes were red rimmed. Jack couldn’t tell because of lack of sleep or because of tears. He assumed that it was probably a combination of both.

“I’m good. Thanks to our…young friend in there,” he replied motioning with his head towards the room he had just exited. Jack nodded. He only wished that maybe for once Mac hadn’t lived up to his hero complex and saved his own ass first. But that was Mac, right? That was the Mac they all knew and loved and Jack was just incapable of imagining Mac being only slightly different. It was this damn self-sacrificing streak, which was holding the team together.

“So, how’s he doing?” Jack asked dreading the answer.

“They’re still trying to stabilise him. The nurse’s with him right now changing bandages and hopefully upping his meds,” Charlie explained to him. Jack took the answer as it was given. He had hoped for better news by now, but on the other hand, he should be glad that the news weren’t worse. No change was better than a change for the worse, though Jack didn’t know whether there was an actual worse and he didn’t even want to imagine how it looked like.

“Did they say when they expect to transport him to Germany?” Jack asked. His body was all tensed up again. If Mac was still alive he wanted him to get the best treatment. He wanted him back in one piece and alive.

“They want to transport him rather sooner than later. His body…it’s…I dunno… full of shrapnel and they’re not equipped to remove all of it. All they could do here was a... sort of quick patch up job,” Charlie explained. Jack didn’t respond to that, because he had to restrain himself from freaking out. He loved Robert Downey jr. Iron man was fun, but this in real life sucked. His worry doubled if it was even possible. He’s heard too many stories of good men who had been transferred to better equipped facilities only to die a few days later.

“How…did it happen?” Jack asked. He needed to know what went wrong in order to prevent it from happening again. However, he didn’t expect Charlie to break down in front of him. He was a solid built man, who has seen his fair share of life’s misery and what a evil a human being was capable of. But now he looked at him, tears glistening in his eyes. He slumped down heavily on one of the chairs and buried his face in his hands shaking it repeatedly. Suddenly, Jack felt bad about his question and the lack of empathy. He should have known that it was too early to remind Charlie of what happened only a few days ago.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I…shouldn’t have asked you this,” Jack said calmly sitting down next to Charlie, one hand on his shoulder to show him that it was okay to break down after something like this and to show his presence.

“No, you’re his partner. You have a right to know what happened,” Charlie replied, still fighting to get his composure back. He took several deep breaths and then turned around to face Jack seeking eye contact.

“We got intel on a storage where we were supposed to find more IEDs. The tunnel we had to walk through has been too narrow. We had to leave out bomb suits outside. Hell, we didn’t expect to find anything then. Intel came from a secret informant. You know how reliable such information can be. But when we reached the storage, we found an IED,” Charlie started to tell him, but trailing off midsentence swallowing hard on whatever was blocking his speech. Jack tilted his head. He still couldn’t make full sense of Charlie’s reaction.

“Charlie, you don’t have to tell me. Not now,” Jack decided to stop this conversation. Charlie looked as if talking about it was inflicting physical pain to him and Jack wasn’t strong enough to watch him struggle like this.

“No, you need to know. You need to know that this wasn’t Mac’s fault. He told me about his gut feeling. He told me that it felt like a trap for him, but I didn’t listen. I was too eager to finally get a look at these IEDs after we’ve been without luck for so long. But he’s been right. What we thought was a sleeping IED was an activated one. Mac realised that the timer was faked and then we made a run for it,” Charlie told him.

“It was not your fault either,” Jack replied after a while of silence, not really believing is own words. Mac had sensed that something was off and Charlie should’ve listened. Damn, Mac was young, but he was no lesser experienced. Life had taught him tough lessons and Mac had accepted them. When he had a bad feeling about something, one should listen. Hell, it was Mac they were talking about. Mac, who would dive head first in any life-threatening risk if he thought it was worthwhile. If he thought it wasn’t, he had a good reason. But Jack couldn’t bring himself tell Charlie just that. Charlie had been there and was now faced with the outcome of his error in judgement. No, after Jalalabad, Jack was the last person who had any right to say a tone of criticism.

“Jack, you haven’t been there. You haven’t seen him lying in this desert dirt and covered all over with his own blood. You haven’t seen him with all this shrapnel in his body, one piece impaling him. You haven’t listened to him telling you to leave him behind dying,” Charlie countered at despair, while describing a picture which would hunt Jack in his dreams forever. He was glad not having seen it, but he should’ve been there. He should’ve been there for his kid.

Since there was nothing left to say, they both waited for the nurse to exit the room. Jack grew listless. He started pacing. He needed get rid of the tension in his body, but it was futile without having seen Mac. Eventually, what felt like an eternity, the nurse exited the room and told them they could go back inside.

“You go, I could use some sleep,” Charlie said his strong hand resting on Jack’s shoulder and Jack appreciated his offer for some privacy. As he didn’t know what he was about to see, he wasn’t prepared and he didn’t want to lose it in front of Charlie. When he entered the room, his eyes immediately searched for Mac and a short-lived relief flashed through him when he saw him: pale, eyes closed, but breathing on his own with an oxygen mask placed over nose and mouth. This flash of relief was crushed when he took in the rest of the picture in front of him. He winced at the sight of Mac’s cheek and felt nauseated when his eyes trailed along the IV in his kid’s neck up to bags filled with blood and whatever liquids. He didn’t need someone to tell him that this was a bad one. Jack shook his head to gain his composure back. He had to be the strong one now. He went closer to Mac. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t completely out of it. His jaw was clenched and in his face lines of pain were drawn.

“Oh kid,” was all Jack could say at this sight. Cold sweat was pouring down his back and his hand was trembling when he reached out to take Mac’s into his. The touch though was only light, because Jack was afraid of causing him any more pain, while he debated as to whether he really wanted to know what was hidden under the bandages around Mac’s arms and under the thin sheets covering his body.

Despite the light touch, Jack felt the hand was cold and it felt lifeless. There was no reaction, but a soft moan from underneath the oxygen mask. It hurt Jack to see Mac like this – so awfully still, because Mac was never still. Jack sat down on the chair that stood in the corner of the room, not letting go of Mac’s hand. With his other hand he cupped Mac’s uninjured cheek stroking it with his thumb. He felt the raw stubble, the evidence of an uneven shave as it was performed by nurses that meant well, but wasn’t used to shave a face. Jack was at a loss. Usually, he would start rambling about this and that, simply irrelevant stuff. It helped him coping with stress and pressure. It had helped him through hard times, rough missions, the births of his nieces and nephews and fights with his friends. But now there was nothing left to say. No story to tell seemed appropriate. Mac lay there, obviously fighting for his life and there was nothing he – Jack - could do. He couldn’t help him. And somewhere in his mind there was this tiny little question lingering: did Mac actually want him to help? Did he actually want Jack to be there? After their fight and the words said, Jack wasn’t sure anymore. He had used harsh words on Mac and he would probably lie if he said he didn’t mean them, because at that very moment he had meant every single word willing to hurt. In an afterthought it turned out to be so awfully wrong. He should have swallowed down his rage, boiled down his anger and sat down with the kid and talk things through. He should’ve talked to the kid, not screamed. He should’ve explained himself, not sending the calls straight to voice mail. Hell, he should’ve talked to the kid about Jalalabad. He should’ve been there for him. He hadn’t, because at that point of time Mac still had been a scrawny burger-named know-it-all, who disrespected hierarchy and his authority.

Jack knew now that this wasn’t any personal thing. It was just how Mac was and he missed him. He started missing that Mac the second Mac found out about his father. This very moment had changed everything. It had changed Mac, who he was. He has become suspicious, questioning everything and everyone. What had been so natural between them had become strained and maybe their fight was his fault, too. Maybe he should have talked to Mac about exactly that: that he had changed. He should’ve been more persistent not letting the kid get off the hook. But now it was too late and he could only hope to get a new chance and suddenly there were words to say, which he felt shouldn’t stay unsaid for much longer.

“I’m sorry, for what I said,” he said with trembling voice, because he wished he could say these straight into Mac’s face meeting his eyes. He was afraid to never meet those eyes again. He was afraid of losing Mac, because no matter how rough missions were and no matter how many close calls they got, it had never been that close and never without him.

“You know, I never really revoked my Wookie-life debt. That’s impossible, you know?” he went on. He felt his heart tear at the words said. It felt so awfully heavy in his chest. Suddenly he realised what he had screamed at Mac. He had broken off their friendship in a haze of fury and anger. No wonder that Mac wanted to get away from them – from him.

“I’m still here Mac,” Jack said.

He heard the rustling noise of the bed sheets moving. Mac was turning his head towards him, his eyes barely open, but open. The sparkling blue was missing. Mac’s eyes were clouded and Jack could tell that he was hardly aware of his surroundings, but still he was looking at Jack and that was enough for him.

“Hey kid,” Jack said sliding forward to get closer to Mac. He was still holding his hand, which was cold and didn’t react to the touch.

“I’m here now,” Jack said, because in the past this had always been what Mac needed to hear when he was in dire condition. It used to calm him.

Mac looked at him and blinked. From the look on his face he was processing what was going on with him and processing the words Jack had just said.

“Mac, I…” Jack’s reassuring words were cut off by a weak whisper, which tore Jack’s heart apart and shredded it into pieces.

“Leave,” was all Mac said to him before he closed his eyes again.


	19. Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you for reading this story. Sorry for this short chapter, but I decided to not make it too easy for Jack ;) Have a nice weekend :D

He was grieving. Grieving an infinite loss. He was still holding on to this bond that had once been so strong, but which he now held loosely in his hand. It had been cut. The bond was gone and it was never going to be attached to his co-part again. At least not this bond. This one was gone, thrown away in a haze of emotions, not well planned – not planned at all – and irrevocable. Maybe, some time there will be another bond, but it would be a new one and he was sure it would be a weaker one, too. If there would be any bond at all. He doubted it. It felt like looking at the remains of a glass case after a rock had been smashed down on it. There was nothing left but shards. No, he would never get this bond back again and every new bond, which might grow where the original one had once been, would not be as strong anymore. He should’ve been thinking about it earlier. He didn’t. Nobody thought about what they had before it was gone. He was grieving this bond and this grief was weighing heavy on him – on his heart. In the aftermath, losing this bond felt like having a piece of his heart ripped out of his chest. He needed this bond. It was his compass and anchor. This bond had been guiding him. It made him the person he was now. This bond had been leading his path and now he was afraid to lose his way and go astray. He needed to repair it. No, there was nothing left to be repaired. The original bond lay at his feet shredded to pieces. He had to rebuild it, create a new one. But that was the problem. He couldn’t tell how the original bond formed between them. There was not one moment or one action. It had been a gradually development. And then, one day, it had been there and nobody even mentioned it. They accepted it. Never appreciated it. Oh, right he at least didn’t. He couldn’t tell what it had been for the other end of this bond. What did they say? You only appreciate something when you’ve lost it? That was true - at least true for him.

He was confused. He didn’t know what was going on. He had the strange feeling that he lost track of time – lost track of everything. Nothing made sense, but he didn’t know what was supposed to make sense. He felt pain like some sort of background noise playing through his body. There were thoughts and images in his head, which he tried to grasp – futile: a familiar face, he couldn’t put a name to; a desert he knew, but couldn’t tell where it was; a fireball accompanied with pressure, which he concluded was an explosion, but he couldn’t tell which one, since there’ve been a couple of those. And then there was some real noise around him, which he couldn’t tell where it came from. It somehow surrounded him coming from all directions. Then it was still again and there was nothing but the background-pain playing in his body or was it his mind?

He tried to breathe deeply into his body to feel it – his body, but his body and his mind were detached from one another. He realised it didn’t make much sense, because why was he feeling that strange pain? Maybe it wasn’t attached to each other but wired together? It was odd. Then he felt like someone was watching him. He felt a strong presence. There was something stifling about it. At some point his brain made out the connection between the noise and the presence. It felt oppressive. He wanted to get away from it, but he couldn’t move. And then there were new images floating through his mind: another familiar face. It was laughing at him, the smile reaching his eyes. It was gentle. The image felt comforting, but then the image melted into an angry expression. The eyes displayed fire and fury. It was scary. He was scared, because the anger was directed at him. And then there was something else, a real strong pain ripping through him overriding the background-pain. He had to get away from that one – really fast. He couldn’t. And then there was this face again. This time neither happy nor angry, but something else, he couldn’t decipher. Worry? Concern? Who was he to tell? All he knew was that his mind made a conclusion – found the connection. It was the connection between the overriding pain and the face it found. Somewhere in the back of his mind something told him that this connection didn’t make much sense. There had to be an error in the equation, but he didn’t find it. He recalculated it and it was the same result. And then there was the idea that something awful must’ve happened, but he couldn’t put together what it was. He mused about it. It dawned to him that the angry face he saw and the feeling that something awful must’ve happened were to be put together and he also concluded that this, whatever it was, caused the pain that was overriding everything. He needed to get rid of it. Fast. It was too much to bear. He wasn’t ready for that.


	20. The Transport

Jack was pacing outside of Mac’s room. He had left after Mac had asked him to. He was pushing Jack away. That hurt. Jack clung to the idea that Mac's brain did not work a full one hundred percent. After all, he was heavily drugged and maybe didn’t even recognise Jack. Who knew who Mac had thought of was there with him. On the other hand, although the words were spoken in a whisper, they had conveyed a strong determination. This fued his fear that he lost his kid and that Mac didn’t want him around although being miserable. This was hard to accept, but Jack had to bear this punishment. He deserved it. But did Mac deserve it, too? He shouldn’t be on his own – not now. But the only one, who was there for the time being, was Jack. A heavy war raged in his head. He wanted to give in to the urge to be with him. He also wanted to show Mac that he respected his wish, because this was the least he could do after his cutting words. Jack huffed. This was a nightmare becoming true and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt helpless and he hated that feeling.

He was dragged out of his thoughts by sudden commotion and a stream of doctors and nurses entering and exiting Mac’s room. Jack’s heartbeat sped up expecting the worst. He jogged over to a nurse that was exiting the room.

  
“What’s going on? Is his condition worsening?” he asked panic-fuelled.

“The doctor decided to prepare Mr.MacGyver for transportation. So no, his condition didn’t worsen,” the nurse told him in a calmly manner putting a hand onto his underarm and squeezing it reassuringly. Jack let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He interpreted this as good news. Nevertheless, he was afraid. The transport bore risks. 

“Are you sure he’s ready for this? I mean, I understand he’s…severely injured and …,” he stammered the thoughts in his head being a mess. He was glad yes, but he was afraid too. What if Mac wasn’t ready? He sure didn’t look like being ready for a long transport.

“Mr. Dalton, please calm down. I know that you’re worried, but you have to trust the doctor’s judgement,” the nurse told him and Jack knew she was speaking the truth, but he was not able to trust someone when it was about his kid’s health. Damn, his kid was pending between life and death.

“I go and ask the doctor. Maybe he has a few minutes for you to explain things,” she suggested and Jack was grateful for her foresightedness. It didn’t take long when a man approached him. Jack immediately recognised the man as a military doctor: hair cropped short, straight posture and serious expression on his face.

“Mr. Dalton, I heard that you were afraid about the upcoming transfer of Mr. MacGyver to L.A.?” The doctor said and Jack nodded while trying to figure out whether he got right what the doctor had just said. What happened to Germany? Maybe the doc had just misspoken. Because seriously? Mac didn’t look ready for a transatlantic flight. The mere thought tied his stomach into knots.

“Well, I assure that I didn’t make this decision easily. Mr. MacGyver’s condition is not as stable as I liked it to be. On the other hand, among other injuries, there’s still shrapnel in his body we weren’t able to remove here. We’re just not properly equipped for that. I’m concerned he’s developing first signs of infection. His chances are better if he’s transferred to a hospital, which can provide the treatments required in his case,” the doctor finished his explanation. It was the famous choice between plague and cholera and Jack’s heart sunk, because reading between the lines the choice was between either let him die here or let him die trying. Well, he was all for the latter option. Whether it was the same for Mac, he couldn't tell.

“But did I understand correctly that you’ll not transfer him to Germany, but L.A. in the U.S?” Jack asked.

“You understood correctly. We received direct order to transfer Mr. MacGyver to L.A. I am not happy about this order either, but I’m in no position to disobey,” the doctor told him. This sounded not good at all to Jack. First of all his kid was still fighting for his life. Secondly there was still some dirty and rusty metal sticking in his body. The mere idea of that caused Jack’s stomach to feel sick. And third he was in for a fifteen hours flight instead of six. His worry grew. He felt his hands tremble, because his body needed to let off some of the tension building up inside.

“Can I ride with him?” Jack asked. The thought of letting Mac alone on this ride, which he might not survive, was agonising.

“I was already told that you’d ask this and I’d say yes, but you have to let the accompanying doctors do their job and stay out of the way,” the doctor admonished him.

Hours later, Jack sat in in a Boeing C-17 Globalmaster watching two doctors exchanging concerned looks. They were constantly checking on Mac, who didn’t react to what was going on. He was unconscious or sleeping. Jack couldn’t tell. He hated seeing his partner lying still. That wasn’t Mac. Even on an air plane Mac wasn’t able to sit still. He would walk around and find something to work on. His hands were always busy as his mind was. To Jack it always felt like Mac’s hands were only waiting eagerly for implementing what Mac’s mind was making up again. Whatever it was. But now, there was nothing. There weren’t even the signs of Mac thinking about something. He was just still. Passive. And if there was one thing Mac wasn’t than it was passive. He was active - had always been.

From time to time, a soft moan escaped Mac’s lips expressing the discomfort he was in. It always got the docs on board alarmed that then started vigorously and efficiently checking his vitals an administering new meds. Jack sat there and watched the procedure.

The time dragged along. It stood still. the roaring engines and the lack of daylight making Jack lose track of time. He dozed off once in a while only to snap his eyes open in fear of Mac having left him during his short nap. His heart would race and thud hard against his chest, until Jack’s eyes would find Mac’s still body and the heart monitor, which told him that Mac was still there with him. Jack then would reach out to Mac and carefully brush his bangs out of his eyes or gently stroke his cheek to make sure Mac knew he wasn’t alone.

At some point something changed. The atmosphere became claustrophobic. There were these looks on the doctors’ faces conveying some sort of bad news, but Jack didn’t dare asking. He was worried enough. Now the doctors were constantly working on Mac, whilst before they had been able to settle down for an hour or so. There was a thick silence and something unspoken lingering above them. Then one doc moved towards the cockpit. Jack straightened up in his seat. He needed to listen to what was said. He had to find out although he didn’t want to.

“Can’t you take a shorter route or speed up? He might not have ninety minutes,” Jack heard the doctor say to the co-pilot. In a haze of fear, Jack grabbed Mac’s hand, which was still cold and lifeless. He wouldn’t let go of his kid. Not like this. Maybe it was time for them to part. Maybe it was time to cut their bond, but if it happened, he wanted to look Mac into the eyes and say goodbye. And it was this very moment it happened. The steady beeping, which indicated Mac’s heart was still pounding, turned into a continuous tone. The doctors then broke out in a rush, pushing Jack aside who lost grip on Mac’s hand leaving a cold lonely space between Jack and his kid.

Jack watched what was going on and felt useless. He was standing aside while he was about to lose his kid. This wasn’t right. He was supposed to be the one rescuing his kid. That had been his job during all the time and it was supposed to be his job for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t rescue him, because he was lacking the means. He watched the doctors baring Mac’s chest. It was covered in thick bandages. Dark crimson spots blossomed beneath some of them, while under others the dark red just begun to surface. He watched one of the doctors’ frantically pushing oxygen into Mac’s lungs, squeezing the ambu-bag in a steady rhythm, while the other placed the electrodes of the defibrillator on Mac’s torso after having injected lifesaving drugs into Mac’s IV. Jack wanted to scream at them to hurry up, because the process went in slow motion. He didn’t want to watch it any longer, but he couldn’t turn his gaze away neither. The blood was rushing loudly through his head. He saw Mac’s body convulse when the defibrillator sent shock waves through his body. It felt surrealistic. He watched the body convulse again and feared it would break, because it was so awfully fragile.

“Dalton, I need a hand,” the female doctor called his name pulling him harshly out of his trance. During that state he didn’t realise that Mac’s heart was beating again a regular beat. He looked at the doctor.

“Hold his head like this, we need to intubate,” she told him and he did, glad to be able to do something. In the background he could hear the male doctor urge the pilot to speed up. The situation was dire, he knew it. Jack didn’t leave Mac’s side from then on. He didn’t move an inch. He was too close. He imagined that if he stayed close, Mac could draw some strength from him to fight this.

It was a rough landing and Jack was painfully jostled around, but he didn’t care. He helped unloading Mac and getting him wheeled into the building, which was the Phoenix. He didn’t have the time to think about it. The docs were in a rush. Mac’s condition was deteriorating rapidly. He followed them not leaving Mac out of his sight, but then was stopped and told that Mac was being treated and he had to wait.


	21. Responsibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you like these two chapters! =)

They arrived in L.A. in the late evening. Since he arrived at the Phoenix, he was pacing up and down, left and right of the waiting area of the medical facility. The carpet was worn and Jack could have sworn it didn’t look like that when he entered the waiting area. Now Jack could see the rising sun through the windows. He shook his head. This was too damn long.He was told nothing on Mac’s condition, but he lacked the strength to press for information. The shock of having witnessed Mac dying still clung to him like a second skin. He just couldn’t shake it off. It triggered a fear inside of him he had never felt before. It was a fear that wouldn't allow him to sit down and rest. Everytime he closed his eyes he would hear thelong-drawn out monotonous signal of a flat line. Mac's convulsing body would appear in fron of his inner eyes. This time, though, the flat line wouldn't change back into a reassuring steady beep. This time the doctors would shake their heads, switch off the monitors and cover Mac's face with a white sheet. After he woke up from that, drenched in sweat and his pulse racing through the roof, he decided to not go back to sleep anytime soon. Seeing Mac dying, even if it was only in a dream, was a horror he was not strong enough for. It went through marrow and bone and echoed through his mind in a infinite loop.

“How is he?” Jack heard Matty’s voice from behind. His chest felt lighter at seeing her. There was something about her presence which told him that everything would work out - somehow. And Matty would have answers and if she didn't have them already upon her sleeve, should would get them.

“I don’t know,” he simply replied when the woman approached him. She didn’t say something else. She waited for him to start talking. She read him. She knew what was going on in his mind and that there was this one question, which needed to be answered:

“Matty, you told me Mac was supposed to be transferred to Germany. Why the sudden change?” he asked her. He couldn’t get over the thought that if Mac had been transferred to Germany, his condition wouldn’t have worsened that fast. Germany would have been much easier to reach, would'vve been much closer. Mac could’ve received whatever treatment he needed much earlier and still, he was transferred to L.A.

“Oversight ordered him being transferred back here,” she simply replied.

“He what? Why?” Jack was outraged and didn't hide it. He could only hope that this man did have a damn good reason for his decision, because otherwise Jack couldn't be hold responsible for his actions.

“I…don’t know, but I'll find out, trust me,” Matty said and Jack had trouble controlling his inner demon which was about to break through the surface. He ws sent through hell and back on this trip and he didn't even try to imagine what it was for Mac and there was no good reason? No explanation at hand?

“Matty, the transport itself had been already a risk, but then from Afghanistan to L.A? Not even the doctor back in the sandbox sounded too happy about this idea,” Jack told her needing her to understand at what unnecessary risk they put Mac and that hecouldn't accept her answer. 

“I know Jack, and I’m sorry…” she started to apologise, but Jack didn’t want to hear it. There was no apology appropriate for what Mac was put through. This

“Matty, he…he suffered a cardiac arrest on the way here. He…was dying, Matty. This could’ve been prevented if Mac had been transferred to Germany as originally planned,” he accused her for risking Mac's life, although he was content that if Oversight ordered it, there was nothing she could've done. This man was a creepy manipulator playing games at his son's expenses. The whole ordeal his hide and seek game was only proof for that. Jack was furious, because he sensed there was nothing good about this order. Therewas something coming to them and they totally unprepared unless Oversight let them in on whatever it was.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Jack. Believe me, I’m working on finding out what’s behind this and I promise, I’ll do what is in my power to provide Mac the best possible medical treatment and if that means I have specialists flown in from all over the world, understood?” she told him with the whole force of her determination. However,he attempt to soothe him failed, because he couldn't tell whether it was enough. He was so damn close of...he drew in a shaky breath. It was no use to wander into the landsof worst case scenarios as long as nothing was for sure.

“Matty, it is bad. Really bad,” Jack told her at the verge of tears, his voice laced with lingering sobs he was struggling to suppress.

“I know Jack. I know,” Matty said taking his hand into her own warm smooth one trying to sooth the pain he was in.

“But you have to take care of yourself too, Jack. Go get some rest,” she told him. He knew she was right, but he couldn’t get himself to leave Mac alone.

“Jack!”, he heard Riley’s voice interrupted the conversation he had with Matty. She ran towards him and bear hugged him. He was stunned at first, but it felt so good to feel her warmth. He relaxed into her embrace inhaling deeply the scent of her perfume. She was there. He was home. 

“Are you happy now?” an angry voice cut through the comfort Jack was experiencing in Riley’s arms. It caused them to break the embrace and look over to the source of the onslaught. It was Bozer, who marched towards Jack like a bull ready to attack, not looking left neither right.

“Let me tell you something: if Mac dies, I’ll make sure you’ll never forget who’s responsible for it,” he nearly screamed into Jack’s face, who took a step back. Responsible. Mac dying. His responsibility? Was it true? Was it really all his fault? Or was it just a perfect storm? He wasn’t so sure about that anymore. Yes, he hadn’t told Mac to go back into the sandbox. But maybe he had driven him to make that decision. Maybe that very night he should have taken his car keys, no matter how drunks he’s been, and driven to Mac to talk things through.

“Mr. Bozer calm down and pull yourself together. Nobody’s dying. Not today and not in the near future. Did you understand me?” Matty intervened, her stern authoritarian voice directed at Bozer, who stepped back from Jack.

“Yes Ma’am,” Bozer replied. The words Matty said, the sheer determination behind them failed their target though. Nothign was going to be alright again, because this was different. This was different from Cairo, Lake Como, Jalalabad, but these were the basis for her assumption. These three cities made it so easy to believe that Mac would pull through this and in no time he would be up and on his feet. This was how Mac worked - how the knew he worked. Mac always made a quick recovery, that was what they were used to, but Jack saw the signs.

“I really do hope you’re right, Matty,” Bozer hissed at Matty, his voice laced with a deep rooted sadness only the nearing loss of a close relative or friend could cause. These words crushed all lingering hopes Jack had. These words revealed that, as Jack suspected, this time was different. He had seen it. He had seen Mac fighting and nearly losing. He had seen how serious it was. Nothing a few pain meds and a bottle of beer could cure. This here was even out of the league for a Die Hard marathon or a weekend filled with pizza, couch and popcorn.


	22. Failure

At some point James MacGyver arrived at the waiting area all grim faced and disapproving. He was the first one to see Mac and being informed about his son’s condition after he was out of surgery. There was an unspoken consent among the rest of the team members that this protocol sucked. James MacGyver had never been the first one being informed and seeing Mac. He has never been there. It’s always been one of them, usually Jack and before he had entered Mac’s life it had been Bozer. It didn't sit right with Jack. Mac was his kid and he would claim that right for himself, but Riley held him back and begged him to just bear it. Jack huffed. It’s never been James MacGyver – Oversight.

James MacGyver came back after what couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes discussing with the doctor, who was in charge of treating Mac. Jack shook his head. This wasn't his definition of a loving father. It was far away from it. This man should at least have had the decency to sit with his son for longer than a few minutes. Jack felt rage boiling inside of him. He clenched his fists to refrain from any emotional act he would regret later.

“I want you to lift the sedation as soon as his condition permits,” James MacGyver sounded so determining and Jack felt the anger inside of him bubbling up. A look over to Bozer told him that the young man – Mac’s best friend – was feeling the same. Oversight was taking over a role that has never been scripted for him. But there was something else about him. This man was all tensed up, ready to react any second. Jack had seen men in this state more than enough to see the signs of someone preparing for a fight. It didn’t make any sense at all.

“Mr. MacGyver,” the doctor started an attempt of explaining and the strain in his otherwise calm voice revealed that he was carrying on with a difficult discussion.

“Oversight,” James MacGyver corrected what felt all sorts of inappropriate in such a situation.

“Mr. MacGyver,” the doctor stubbornly went on and Jack immediately liked him. He watched Bozer’s lip twitch with a subtle grin.

“Your son is in a severe condition. We really should give him as much time to recover as he needs. That includes the period of the artificial coma. It’ll help him heal properly without experiencing the discomfort induced through the medication and the pain,” the doctor explained calmly. Jack watched Matty paying closely attention to the scene displaying on front of them. Count on Matty having picked up the same signs Jack did. Something was off and it not only concerned the discussion about Mac’s treatment. There was something more subtle conveyed with the words said.

“Listen, Dr. Caine, my son’s not any other patient. He’s an experienced field agent. He knows how to deal with pain and we’re faced with exceptional circumstances, so I ask you kindly to take my request into consideration,” Oversight replied and then left the doctor staying as if the lecture was over. This man, who has never been there before, now claimed the right for knowing what was good for Mac for him all alone. This felt awfully wrong. How could this man, who's left so much out of his son's life, claim this right for him? And why could he be so wrong? There had to be something else, because this conversation didn't make sense to Jack and as much as he wanted to hate James MacGyver, he couldn't believe that this man would put his son's recovery at risk only because he could. Matty and Jack exchanged looks and an unspoken agreement was made: they would find out what this strange conversation was about. Jack then turned his attention back to the doctor, who shook his head in disbelieve and turned towards their little group.

“Please, I don't need anyone else explaining how I’m supposed to do my job,” he siad trailing off mid-sentence, his voice now displaying the full extent of exasperation the conversation with Oversight left him with.

“We only want to see Mac and know how he is,” Matty replied in a calm manner to sooth the doctors fears. James MacGyver could be a challenge – for everyone.

“Well, I don’t know how much you’ve heard already, but Mac’s conditions is…let me speak honestly with you. It’s not good. The burns are severe, but not too extensive. But he lost a lot of blood, suffered cardiac arrest and due to his unstable condition we had to abort the surgery. All I can assure you of is that my team and I do what we can, but I can’t promise to comply with any orders given,” he told them with an apologetic expression. Jack had seen it before. It meant that the chances for Mac not pulling through were higher than the reverse. Jack was relieved that it didn't trigger another emotional onslaught in him. The past hours he’s been trapped in an emotional rollercoaster and entered the state of numbness in which you only hope that it would be over, because you couldn’t bear any more.

“Thank you doc,” Matty replied. The doctor retreated when a nurse came and asked who would be the first one seeing Mac. Jack was about to jump into action, but Matty halted his action by gently placing a warm hand on his thigh, letting Bozer making the first move. Confused Jack looked at Matty. That has never happened. It had been his inherent right to be the first one seeing Mac as forever since their partnership.

“Let him go, Jack,” she simply said looking into his eyes and he understood. Suddenly he did. Matty wasn’t only here for Mac and controlling Oversight. She was here to hold together their team. Bozer being mad at him, making him responsible for Mac being injured, threatened to tear them apart. Matty was there to prevent that. He could only hope that she succeeded. She would definitely fail if Mac…he cut his thought off. He wasn’t ready for that one. Not yet.

“What did the doctor mean with 'orders given'?” He asked her curiously. Riley had joined them one arm wrapped around Jack’s waist, making sure he knew that he wasn’t alone and that she was there to help, too.

“Oversight made Mac’s fitness for field missions a first priority. I guess this is what’s making it a little more difficult for the docs,” she explained to Jack, who didn’t comprehend what that meant.

“Can he do that? I mean, order a doctor what to do and how to decide?” he asked. It didn’t seem right what Matty had just told him. It caused the fear that Mac’s life was somehow less important than his capability of acting in the field. That couldn’t be the right way of prioritising things.

“I’m not sure. After all, this here is not a normal hospital. This here is the Phoenix, things work differently here, but I have someone checking this out,” she explained to him. The fact that Matty already has someone on this matter proves to Jack that she’s not happy with that either. How could she be?

There was nothing more to say while Jack anxiously waited for Bozer to come back so he could go and see his kid, but it took forever until Bozer came out. He looked pale and Jack wasn’t sure whether there were tracks of tears on his cheeks, too. He got up and went towards Bozer. He wanted to hug him to let him know that he was there for him too, no matter what was going on between the two of them, but Bozer had only snide looks left for him.

“This is your fault,” he said pressing the words forcefully through gritted teeth.

“Bozer…” Jack tried, but didn’t stand a chance as Bozer left without even looking at anyone of them. Jack decided to leave it with that and headed to see Mac, but instantly wished he hadn’t. What he found wasn’t what he was looking for. Mac’s still form lay in a bed surrounded by even more machines than back in Afghanistan. The IV still stuck in his neck and there was still a blood transfusion. The breathing tube indicated how much worse Mac’s condition has become. It was the elephant in the room.

“I should’ve been there,” Jack whispered again taking Mac’s cold hand into his. Suddenly a wave of guilt washed over him and Bozer’s words started hitting him with full force. It was his fault. If he hadn’t said those words, maybe Mac wouldn’t have gone to help Charlie. Maybe if he had mustered up the courage to drive to Mac after finding out how much he really remembered about Jalalabad. He should have talked to Mac.

“I’m so sorry, kid,” he said. Meaning his words, but fearing to never got to say them looking into these blue eyes. He felt tears pricking in the corner of his eyes. His shell of numbness was about to break. It was so easy. There was this pressing urge to just scoop Mac up and bring him somewhere safe where he could heal. Even in the miserable state he was in, Mac was required to perform. Fitness for the field. Jack huffed at that thought. As if that really mattered. Though, James MacGyver’s priorities where just symbolic for what went wrong. Mac was reduced to his brains and performance, the human being behind it long forgotten. Jack realised it the first time in Afghanistan after Jalalabad. It didn’t stop when they signed in for the DXS or Phoenix. Jack tried to work against it, making sure Mac knew that it was okay to be imperfect and that one’s flaws were actually what made you the person your friends loved. It never really sunk in, though. The moments in which Mac would share with him or their small family his doubts were rare, those in which he would give away an emotion even rarer.

Jack carefully put his head on Mac’s chest while the veil of failure fell over him. Listening to Mac’s heartbeat and the swoosh of the vent were comforting, because these were signs that Mac was still there and they all could hope for a chance to say sorry and make up for what went wrong. It was the very moment in which Jack nearly prayed for Mac to lose his fucking fitness for field missions. It wouldn’t be easy but in the long run it was probably the best for him to finally get a chance to break out from this strange cage, which was constructed around him.

“Jack, we should go,” he heard Riley talk to him from behind, placing a hand onto his shoulder. She looked as pale as Bozer when he exited the room. Shock was written all over her face. She had all reason to be shocked. She’s never seen something like this before and this was definitely something nobody could have prepared her for. Jack realised what was the actual hardest part of this job: watching people you were close to and you were friends with suffer, or if it came to its worst, even die. He took Riley’s hand into his and let her guide him out. As hard it felt to leave Mac behind, he needed time to get his bearings back together. He was no help for Mac in the state he was in.

They were on their way to Riley’s car, when once again they met Matty.

“Jack?” she asked him, her facial features soft, but still concerned. Jack stopped, but Riley didn’t leave him. She took his hand into hers. The soft skin of her hands having a soothing effect on his nerves.

“We all deal differently with fear and grief. Bozer’s angry. Awfully angry and we should tolerate it. But I want you to know that this here is not your fault. It’s the making of a crazy bomb terrorist, not yours. Don’t understand me wrong, I really do think that you and Mac have a lot to sort out. But it is not your fault that Mac’s…fighting for his life right now.”


	23. Iodine and Scrapes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you for still reading this story. In this chapter I toyed a little with the narrative. I hope it worked!

The scene she witnessed in the waiting area of medical made her suspicious. She hated the feeling of something going on behind her back. But this was James Macgyver. He’s always been a risk because of his own hidden agendas. She’d watcehd Jack and his posture screamed at her that there was something wrong, too. Of course he did decipher the signs. He was a long experienced agent, one of the best. If someone was able to look behind the curtains James MayGvyer used to hide behind, it was him. She was content that his urge to protect Mac played its part, too. He was overly alert. That was good because Matty couldn’t shake off the thought that it wasn’t over – that Mac wasn’t safe yet. Her instincts told her about a threat coming towards them and there was someone who knew about it. It would be tough to get it out of him, though. James was a good actor. His poker face has never given away a secret. They had tried to get to him, but he resisted. Not even when they threatened to harm his family he would give in. James MacGyver was a tough guy, but she was a tough lady. Matty the Hun, this nickname didn’t pop out from nowhere. She’s won more wars she could count and she would win this one, too. She just had to be patient and maybe apply pinprick tactics.

She didn’t think of knocking on his office door first, but entered it. James MacGyver was sitting at his desk holding a familiar picture frame in his hand. Matty sighed. After all, James MacGycer was a father and while he wouldn’t win the father of the year award – he couldn’t be any further from it – he still loved his son in his own strange ways. Seeing him like this soothed some of her anger, but didn’t boil it down, because she still hated it if someone played games with her, while she didn’t even know the rules of the game.

“Matty, what are you doing here?” he asked her not the least surprised by her presence in his office.

“I want to know what’s going on. What was your conversation with the doctor about?” she asked him upfront. There was no need for some polite small talk. Down to business, that’s always been her strategy and it payed off.

“I wanted to make sure Angus receives the best treatment, that’s all,” he replied and she saw how the shields went up. He was guarding himself.

“I understand that, but what I do not understand is what this has to do with his fitness for field missions,” she countered. At the very moment she didn’t care whether Mac would be part of any missions if he only survived. She’d be grateful for that. The rest? She could worry about that later.

“Let’s see it as an encouragement for the medical team to do their best,” James replied. His eyes were cold. They would get like that when he felt cornered.

“Damn it James, your son is currently fighting for his life. Whether he can get back to his job should be the least of your concerns,” she nearly yelled at him, while knowing that James MacGyver was well aware of that specific fact and was struggling not to let on what this really did to him. It's been the same after his wife died.

“Since when did your agents’ wellbeing grow to your heart, huh? I might remember that you did like to overlook such things in the past,” he beat back hitting a sore spot. She knew what he was alluding to. In the past, she has had a tendency to frequently let it slide when Jack and Mac skipped a well-deserved needed trip to medical trusting the two men’s capability to take care of themselves and of each other.

_Mac stood in the lavatories of the Phoenix while he carefully peeled off a bandage of his left forearm. He hissed. The dressing stuck to the wound. He hated it. After he successfully and even more painfully peeled off the whole dressing, he examined the wound. It was nasty scrape. It burnt like hell and it was red around the edges. Well, that was what you got when you dropped off a jeep at full speed. Well, this and some ugly bruising too, but that would heal nicely on its own without needing his attention. His skin, however, reacted really offended to the onslaught. He decided to wash out the wound again. He debated whether a trip to medical was a wise move. They’d probably scold him for not coming in immediately after their last mission the day before. Although, technically he had been there. Jack caught a bullet into his arm. He was lucky to be let lose the very moment the nurse finished dressing the wound. No broken bones, no hit artery, simply flesh and muscles. He had taken Jack home afterwards which was where he wanted to head now. He had to make sure Jack didn’t do something stupid, because a Jack that was bored out of his skull could come up with a lot of mischief._

_The day before, it didn’t occur to Mac that maybe he should get checked out, too. The scrape and bruises would make themselves felt only later that evening when Mac sunk into the cushions of Jack's couch and sheer exhaustion replaced the adrenaline rush. He then couldn’t get himself back onto his feet to make the trip to medical and since there was no blood or broken bones involved, he decided it wasn’t worth the energy to go there._

_“Hey, rendezvous with the concrete?” his father asked. He stood in the door watching his attempts to get the scrape washed out. Mac didn’t notice him coming in. However, his body tensed up immediately. He still wasn’t sure of what to make of his father. There were this longing for a father he’s been missing for so many years, but at the same time there was this urge to keep him at safe distance so he couldn’t manipulate him and his life any longer._

_“Something like that,” Mac replied trying hard not to sound annoyed. He didn’t want to give the impression of having made a decision while he was still being far away from knowing what he actually wanted._

_James saw how his son pulled up his defences the very second the worde left his mouth. He didn’t blame him. To say they had a rocky start was an understatement. He couldn’t probably have fucked it up any more than he had already done._

_“C’mon let me see,” he said earning curious glances from his son. No, not curious, but suspicious, but after a while, probably after Angus had decided it was a safe move, he let him take his arm and examine it. It looked nasty, but not yet infected, which was good. Nevertheless, his son should’ve let a doctor have a look at it maybe should’ve been thoroughly checked out. From experience James knew that such a scrape never came along alone, but usually was accompanied by bruises._

_“I’m sorry Jack got shot,” he said while taking a closer look and debating whether to send his son to medical with this. He really felt sorry for Jack getting injured. He witnessed what Jack meant to Angus and he was grateful that his son had someone like Jack at his side. Angus needed it. Jack grounded him. After all the losses he lived through, he needed a permanent presence around and he couldn’t have found anyone better than Jack. James was realistic enough to accept that he would never fit into that role let alone in the role of a father. He’s gambled away that right, but he’s done that with the knowledge that he protected his son for as long as possible - until Angus was capable of defending himself. James would never be able to say these words, though. It wasn’t the right time yet. Angus wasn’t ready, yet. And James couldn’t afford it either. He would give away too much and become an easy target. This was the downside of their job. Never let on what you really thought or felt, always keep up a tough façade. It was scary to watch his son trumping him in this discipline. It was beyond healthy, but what else could they do? It was this or exposing oneself to the always unknown enemy._

_“Thanks. He’s good, though. Nothing major. He’ll be good to join the missions by next week,” his son replied. James felt that Angus was insecure around him. Probably weighing what was safe to tell him and what was better kept to himself._

_“C’mon let’s take care of that,” he finally concluded and guided Angus to his office where he hid an iodine-based ointment, which always came in handy for such scrapes and when the will to visit medical wasn’t there._

_He followed his father, still unsure what to make of this awkward situation. It was difficult to decide how close he could let his father get to him and when it was better to keep a safe distance. To Mac it felt like they were dancing meteors circling around and attracting each other on the way to collision._

_Mac was surprised when they entered his father’s office. He had thought he would drop him off at medical. It still felt strange being in this office. In fact, he’s been here only on a handful of occasions. He watched his father rummage through the drawers at his desk finally producing a well-known tube of ointment. Mac clinched inwardly, because he could already feel the burning sensation this ointment left on him so many times when he was a kid. He could hardly count them._

_“You hated that as a kid,” his father said and Mac recoiled. He hated it when his father started like that. It made him want to scream at him, what they hell he did know about him and his childhood since he managed to miss out most parts of that. But he couldn’t. Though, Mac didn’t want to give his father any hope that they would get back to some sort of normal father-son relationship. But he also didn’t want to push his father too far away, at least not until he found out what he - Mac - actually wanted, which was much more difficult than he had expected. There were so many conflicting thoughts and emotions piled up inside of him and every moment with his father put a new conflict on top of that pile. Mac really wished he was better in these things, but he’s never been. He accepted that there wasn’t always a rational explanation to what people did. It didn’t mean that it made it any easier for him to decipher his emotions and the correct way to act upon them. Mac concluded that this at least made one of them. He wasn’t much different from his father and it astonished him that it didn’t make it easier for him to understand the man, who was across from him._

_“Let me put this on. It’s easier,” his father said stepping closer and instinctively Mac stepped back. He didn’t trust this man. This realisation struck him like lightning, but then again it was not unusual, wasn’t it? He didn’t know this man. He always had the feeling this man was hiding something from him, how was he supposed to trust him?_

_“Angus?” his father asked picking up on his reaction. Suddenly Mac felt like running, but suppressed that urge. He really wished it was Jack staying in front of him, he really did. He trusted Jack. He had always been honest to him and never hurt him – at least not on purpose. Suddenly, he really longed for Jack’s presence. Jack could take care of that scrape as well. He’d rant on about some nonsense to distract Mac from the pain which was about to come. Then again, it occurred to Mac that his father was truly trying and it felt unfair to rebuff his advances. They probably weren't appropriate, but who was he to tell? It wasn’t like he knew it any better. For this, he outstretched his arm again and was surprised how carefully - nearly gentle - his father took it into his hand. Somehow, Mac had thought he’d be more brutally and down to business. It never entered his mind that maybe his father might have some sort of sensitive side. This realisation only added up to the pile of already conflicting emotions._

_It took all his willpower not to scream when the ointment met the scrape._

_James noticed how hesitant his son was. It hurt him, but he didn’t expect anything different. He hasn’t proven to be gentle or sensitive in the past. How did they say? A leopard can’t change it spots? Maybe he could. He tried, but it was a tough job and the road there was paved with failure and flaws, with each bearing the risk of finally blocking the road to something, which could approximately be classified as father-son relationship. This was only more reason for James to put more effort into his attempt to prove that he was a care taker. He carefully applied the auburn ointment. He saw welding beats on his son’s forehead. From experience he knew that iodine was a bitch. The more astonished he was that his son didn’t let on any sign of discomfort and endured the treatment as if there was nothing wrong. When he was finished, he wrapped another bandage around the wound and then went over to his desk drawers from where he took two glasses and a bottle of Tullamore Dew 18 years single malt. He poured his son and himself a generous swig._

_“Here, that should help to numb the sting,” he handed the glass to his son, who took it warily from him. It pained James to see with how much distrust his son met him, but that was what you got when you left your son without an explanation and then appear with the explanation of never having really left. Even James understood that this sounded confusing._

_“How come you’re having your own first aid kit in your office?” his son asked him curious. He nodded and took the chance for having a conversation – no matter how short – with his son._

_“You take after your mother. The bad traits, however, you inherited them from me,” his father replied and he felt that familiar sting in his heart he always felt when his mother was mentioned. He considered his mother still forbidden terrain between him and his father._

_“Sorry, that was inappropriate,” James noticed his son’s reaction. Domaine reserve. Over all these years, his son has put her on a pedestal in his memories and it was okay, for now. The more relieved James was when his son, although of his faux pas, didn’t run, but remained._

_“Irish Whisky? Where does that come from?” Mac asked his father, resisting the impulse to run for the opposite direction after the mentioning of his mother. He was willing to give a second and even a third chance, but what he didn’t know was to what conditions._

_“I've been doing a little genealogical research lately. Seems that the MacGyvers immigrated to Boston with the great famine,” James started explaining what he found out and Angus would listen to him. It was a safe terrain for a conversation and Angus would at some point relax a little shaking off the tension._

_Later that evening, Mac went to check on Jack. He was already asleep when Mac entered the apartment. Mac blamed the heavy pain killers for that and Jack’s tendency to not slow down – not even after being shot. As it was already late and because Bozer texted him that Leanne was over at theirs, he decided to stay at Jack’s. That way he could have an eye on him and make sure he wouldn’t do something stupid. The next morning, though, Jack would kick Mac’s ass to medical after accidently stepping into the bathroom while Mac was having a shower. He was put on medical leave for the rest of the week. Apparently, the contusion of a whole body half earned you at least five days off and a very angry Jack. It all got worse when his time for medical leave was extended and Jack was permitted to go back to the job on light duty. The scrape, however, was healing nicely.  
_

“But this here is different, James,” Matty argued ignoring the point James made, “Because, I don’t know what you’re hiding, but I do know that this is about Mac. And Mac is also my responsibility and I’ll protect him, even from you and you know that,” she told James making sure he got the message behind it. It was futile to keep a secret from her. She would find out what was going on and if it wasn’t her, than it would be Jack. But who it was, didn’t matter. What counted to her was to protect her agents.


	24. Only a human being

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this. Today: two chapters in a row. Too long to be one, but not really good to be separated either. ;)

Riley drove Jack to his apartment and then led him inside. Everything seemed like a blur, not like a coherent sequence of events. Jack’s thoughts were circling around Mac and somehow it felt wrong that he wasn’t there with him. He was about to turn around, but Riley stopped him.

“Jack, you need to rest. Get some sleep, a hot shower and something to eat. You can go back afterwards, but it’s no use if you work yourself into the ground. Mac will need you – us – when he wakes up,” she told him guiding him back into his apartment where he flopped down on the worn couch. Suddenly he felt so awfully empty as if all emotions and thoughts were poured out of him and he was left nothing but a shell. There were no words to say, nothing else to feel and nothing for him to do, but sit and wait.

“Here,” Riley said handing him a glass of bourbon before sitting down on the small table in front of him. She had poured herself a glass of the strong brownish liquid. She looked as tired as he felt.

“You know that Matty’s right? It’s not your fault that Mac got caught in that explosion,” she said and put a gentle hand onto his knee. Her warmth immediately flowed through him and it had a relaxing effect on his muscles. It allowed him to lean back a little.

“But Bozer’s right, too. If I hadn’t said those words, then there would have been no reason for him to go back,” he replied, because he understood Bozer very well.

“That’s not for sure. We all know Mac. He might have gone anyway. Charlie’s a close friend of his. Remember when Charlie asked for his help when the Ghost appeared? He jumped at that instantly. What makes you think it would’ve been different this time?” she asked him. She had a point there.

“Because we’re talking about the sandbox and at the end he hated it as much as I did, if not even more,” Jack answered her. He was convinced that, after Jalalaba,d Mac hated it by far more than Jack did. He only never let it slip. He looked at Riley. She nodded and let the words sink in. She didn’t understand and he was glad that she didn’t even try to pretend as if she did. She told him once that she couldn’t empathise with it. She would listen and try to understand, give comfort, but she would never be able to relate to this part of his past. He had been glad about these true words and somehow it made it easier for him to talk to her about it. Having someone there, who simply listened, was usually much more valuable than having someone giving displaced advice.

“You know, there’s just one thing I don’t understand,” Riley started the conversation anew and got his full attention. She took a careful sip of the bourbon. Her reaction showed him that she wasn’t used to such a strong drink.

“Why were you so angry with Mac? I mean, we all make mistakes at times. What was so bad with this one?” she asked him honestly. She had no idea. She really didn’t. Jack grew furious. She should know by now. At least she should be aware of how much she meant to him and that this was a proper reason for him to blow his top.

“You do remember what I said to you after we lost that EMP?” he asked her back and he regretted having brought up this topic the second the words left his mouth.

“You said the next mistake could mean losing everything,” she recapitulated their conversation.

“Yes and that mistake could have meant me losing everything. Losing you,” he told her which earned him a shocked look.

“What? You know, if you’re so afraid of losing me, you might not have gotten me this job,” she snapped at him angrily what caught him off guard.

“Sorry that I want to protect you,” Jack snapped back at her unable to understand what earned him such a harsh treatment.

“Sure, by getting me in a line of work where I do risk my life on a day by day basis. You know, you sound just like the hypocrite called James MacGyver,” she snorted and got up pacing up and down his living-room with fury. Her words hit hard. He? Like Mac’s dad? That couldn’t be, right? But then he recollected the words James MacGyver – Oversight – had said to Mac: he did everything to protect Mac. And this “everything” included getting his son involved in the DXS and now Phoenix. It included forming Mac to a field agent. This explanation included risking Mac’s life for the sake of others. But then there was one significant difference:

“Yeah, but I would be the first person agreeing to your name crossed off the list of active field agents. They only reason why I am not doing it is the fact that you love your job and I can’t take it away from you,” Jack pointed out looking at Riley with stern expression.

“You’re an adult person, all grown up. If you decide for yourself that this is what you want to do then I have to accept it, whether I like it or not. And damn, this is so fucking hard at times,” he told her. He could see the softness return to her eyes when she listened to him and he could see the apology forming, which he actually didn’t want to hear, because he deserved the words said. But he also didn’t want Riley to think that she wasn’t important to him. She was the most important person in his life. She had to understand that. Jack wouldn’t get any peace until he was content that she believed him, which would according to her reaction take some time, still.

“And do you really think that was something a James MacGyver would do? Do you really think this man, who even now is more concerned of his son’s ability to serve as field agent, would do that for him only to protect him?” Jack went on to make the difference between him and Oversight as obvious as possible.

“Do you really think he would allow Mac to just quit, drop out and live a normal life? I don’t think so. He would always appeal to his sense of responsibility. He would tell him how important he was for the safety of the world and that he couldn’t be soselfish to just drop out. That’s what a James MacGyver is. A heartless manipulative monster. And while I’m sure I can be considered a monster too, after all I’ve done, I am certainly neither heartless nor manipulative,” Jack suddenly threw himself into a plea of justification. He just wasn’t like James MacGyver. This speech got him all worked up. He did make mistakes, but he was nothing compared to Oversight. He rather put his life in line of fire than let Riley get hurt. He wouldn’t hide behind her, but stand before her when the shit was flying towards them.

“And I didn’t mean to imply that,” Riley said dropping down next to him pulling him once again in a full hearted hug. He forgave her for her words the second she said those, because he knew that the words spoken were true and spoken with honesty. He returned the hug and together they snuggled into the cushions of the couch seeking comfort in each other’s arms.

“You know, the words you said after the EMP incident,” Riley started again after a while. “These words really scared the shit out of me. I was really thinking about chuck it all in and quit,” she explained to him and this revelation hurt.

“I’m sorry to hear. I…I didn’t intend to cause any self-doubts I…” he was at a loss of words. He’s hurt his kid.

“I know Jack. I know. You wanted me to recognise the seriousness of the job and it worked. I was just scared,” she explained to him. Although she told him that there was no accusation in her words, he still felt bad. He had wanted to give her a good advice. He had tried to act like a father talking to a daughter giving her a piece of his life experience.

“And what made you not to quit?” Jack asked curious, while already anticipating the answer. If it hasn’t been him helping Riley through that, it only could’ve been one other person.

“Mac.”


	25. The talk

_She was tired. Self-doubts were raging insider of her. She nearly got herself killed and worst of all, she nearly got Jack and Mac killed, too. And why? Because she was incapable of firing a gun. It hadn’t even been a death or life situation. A shot into the arm or the leg would have been enough to rescue them and the EMP. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She hasn’t seen the terrorist, but the human being. A man who may have had a wife and kids and good reasons for doing what he did. How could she possibly decide, who was right and who was wrong? Who told them that actually they were fighting for the good thing? Maybe it was the other way round and they were actually the bad guys? What were the words ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ other than a moral compass shaped by the prevailing social currents?_

_She paced through her apartment unable to come to peace when suddenly her doorbell rang. She was afraid that it could be Matty, who would tell her that she wasn’t fit for the job and was fired. Suddenly a fear surged inside of her she hasn’t felt for a long time: was she sent back to the SuperMAX? Slowly she went to the door peeking through the peephole. Her heart felt lighter when she saw it was Mac standing in front of it. She opened the door._

_“Mac?” she asked not sure what he was doing there. He greeted her with a shy smile._

_“I was around and just wanted to check on you, see whether you’re alright,” he explained his presence at her doorstep._

_“I’m fine thanks,” she replied, but stepped aside to let Mac in. He held up a bottle of fancy white wine and it earned him an amused look from Riley._

_“What happened to the trade mark six-pack?” she asked curiously._

_“That’s reserved for Jack,” Mac replied not answering her question, but Riley understood him though._

_“Thinking white wine is more appropriate for visiting a lady, huh?” Riley mocked Mac. It stunned her to witness that although of being one of the most advanced thinkers she’s ever met, he still held on to such old fashioned etiquette. When they were out for a steak dinner, he would even get up from his chair when she went to the lavatory. It bemused her, but she liked it. It told her that she was appreciated for being a woman, but not belittled for being one._

_“Mama raised a fine boy,” she commented mockingly when she went to her kitchen to open the bottle. She regretted those words after remembering that Mac’s mother didn’t have much time to raise her boy. She turned towards Mac, who followed her. If her thoughtless words had stung, he wouldn’t show it. He stood there in his usual calm and relaxed manner._

_“You want one?” she asked him pouring a glass of white wine._

_“Better not, I have to drive,” he replied._

_“C’mon, drinking alone is not a polite thing to do. A half should go,” she coaxed him in and he let her. Later he would leave the glass standing untouched on the coffee table in her living room._

_“You sure, you’re okay?” Mac asked her again when they’ve made themselves comfortable in Riley’s living room. Mac sat across from her. His facial expression was relaxed, but she saw that he was studying her closely._

_“Yes I am, or I will be, if I manage to get over the fact that we lost the EMP only because of my stupidity,” she snorted. She’s been so awfully angry. She wanted to slap herself for that mistake, because she somehow understood that it was irrational how she reacted._

_“I have to make sure to not make any mistakes again,” she said and she truly meant it. She realised that the job required perfection and she was willing to provide just that: perfection. But she was afraid of not being able to be perfect and even more afraid of the consequences. She was still on probation. One more mistake could send her back to prison and the mere thought of that was making her sick._

_“Sorry to break the news to you, but you will make another mistake. And then another one, and another one,” Mac simply replied and his words shocked her. She was determined to throw him out of her home when his only reason for being there was to pull her even further down._

_“But that’s how it is. We’re only human beings. We all do make mistakes. Jack and I included,” Mac went on and she tilted her head with relief when she found out he wasn’t there to make her feel even worse._

_“The thing is, in our line of work, we’re not allowed to make mistakes. The consequences could be fatal. And since we aren’t perfect and cannot prevent every mistake, we have to find a way to cope with the consequences,” Mac went on his soft blue eyes looking into hers. She’s never realised how sensitive Mac was until then. Hearing these words out of his mouth didn’t feel wrong, but knowing that they were spoken from an as hard as a bone agent made them feel so awfully true._

_“Riley, as long as you try your best and give everything you can, you don’t have to feel bad about something going wrong. And even if you make a mistake, if you acted to your best of intentions and according to your best judgements, then there was nothing you could’ve done about it. The consequences might still be awful and you will feel bad, but if there was nothing else you could’ve done, then we all have to accept and live with it. That’s life. Believe me, Jack and I will always be there for you and help you to prevent these consequences and have your back, when things turn out to be bad. You’re not alone with this,” Mac concluded his speech. There was nothing left to say. At least not for her, because Mac was right. No matter how hard they tried to be perfect. Perfection was non-existent. Later that night she would fall asleep, because she’s made her peace with her mistake. After Matty gave her a run down the day after, she didn’t fall apart, because she knew Mac was there and Jack, too._

“Mac was right,” Jack said after she told him what Mac had told her that evening.

“I know, but I also know that only because Mac always finds a way out and survives, it’s not a given natural law,” Rile spoke softly and he knew she was right. They were facing the evidence of her words with Mac being in ICU fighting for his life after going kaboom all without Jack and his friends.


	26. The Awakening

After another surgery and more shrapnel removed, the doctor decided to lift the sedation and let Mac wake up. Jack couldn’t tell whether this was good or not, but he had to trust the doc and that he would not risk his kid’s well-being for something stupid like fitness for field work. He was allowed to visit Mac, but not sit with him until he would finally wake up. Matty had put a veto to it. Jack understood why. Oversight was checking on Mac every two hours sharp. Jack couldn’t tell whether it was true fatherly concern or some sort of compulsive control. Maybe it was a combination of both. However, Matty made sure that neither Jack nor Oversight got a chance to meet each other.

When it was Jack’s turn, he would take Mac’s hand into his and just stay silent. His head was still working on the proper phrases with which to tell Mac that he didn’t mean what he said. What his head had come up with until then, however, was nothing more than a lousy plea and the excuse for something which could hardly be excused at all. He watched his kid closely for any signs of a change in his condition. Mac was still too pale. The only improvement Jack saw was that the breathing tube was replaced by a nasal cannula. Everything else stayed in place. What added to Jack’s concern were nurses or doctors bustling in and out of the room to check on Mac. It made Jack nervous. When the doctor entered once again, Jack took his chance for an honest answer.

“Can you tell me, how he really is?” Jack asked the man, who has to put up with Oversight every two hours, but otherwise was a kind guy.

“Not as good as I would like him to be,” the doctor replied not going into detail. Jack accepted it. He had gotten an update from Matty. Mac’s body was fighting off an infection. He was on strong antibiotics, but the effect hasn’t yet fully kicked in. His temperature still rose and the shrapnel wounds couldn’t heal properly. Jack’s stomach tightened to knots, because these were only the first bullet points on the list of injuries his kid sustained in the course of the explosion. No, this was far away from good and what Jack frightened most was that there was no positive news since he picked up his kid from Afghanistan. No improvement. Every time he talked to someone it rather seemed that the kid’s condition was in decline. Another surgery necessary, another drug to be administered to help with yet another body function. This call was so damn close.

“Do you really have to lift the sedation?” Jack asked concerned. He didn’t want Mac to suffer. He wished they would just let Mac sleep it off.

“From a medical point of view it is reasonable,” Dr. Caine answered him, but Jack was more interested in the words which remained unspoken.

“I know what you’re afraid of,” the doctor went on now facing him. “And I promise that I and my team will do our outmost to make him as comfortable as possible,” he promised Jack. Jack would hold him to that, because he wasn’t prepared to see his kid in pain. On the other hand, the fear of losing Mac was so awfully strong that Jack couldn’t wait for him to wake up again. Asleep like that he could so easily slip away. Jack couldn’t bear that thought.

Jack saw Mac’s finger twitch slightly. The doctor saw it too.

“You should stay,” he said and then left the room. There was nothing he wanted more than to stay with his kid, but he wasn’t sure what Matty had planned or where Oversight was. Jack imagined that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to have Mac wake up to his father’s face. But he wasn’t sure whether his face was the best one either. At the end Mac had wanted him to leave. Maybe he should ask Bozer to stay with his friend. Jack absentmindedly took Mac’s hand once more into his. He couldn’t leave him. After all it has always been Jack. Not Bozer. Not Riley. It had been him who had kept vigil. So he sat down once again in this uncomfortable chair.

“You know, you can wake up. No need to be afraid,” Jack mumbled whispered words to Mac. Somehow he felt that he had to take some sort of fear from his kid, although he didn’t know what kind fear. But there was fear radiating from Mac. He felt it.

“I mean, sure there’s a lot we have to talk about. My harsh words, Jalalabad and maybe one or two other things. We shouldn’t have let it slide all the time. Look where it brought us,” Jack went on talking. He realised that their coping mechanism had damaged their relationship more than he wanted to admit. He should have talked to Mac about Jalalabad. He never explained himself or apologised for his reaction on Riley’s first solo mission. He should have taken the time to sit down with Mac and have a conversation about what finding his father and the related revelation meant to Mac - how he felt about it. Time was a slippery thing, though. They didn’t have much. The time in between missions was filled with catching up on sleep, licking one’s wounds and running errands of normal life. That was wrong. They had to take the damn time. They were a team, working closely together. They had to make sure that they were still functioning, somehow. They had to take the time to help each other. Somewhere down the road these things, which really meant friendship, like taking the time to talk and listen, got lost on the sideway.

“I know what you think. Two guys tough as nails don’t need to talk, but I think it wouldn’t hurt our manly pride if we gave it a try,” he rambled on. He felt Mac’s hand twitch a little stronger in his hand. Jack put his other hand on top of it, asking himself if Mac’s hand had always been bony like that. A soft moan of discomfort waved through the room which got Jack’s full attention.

“Take it easy, hoss,” Jack whispered taking one hand from Mac’s and brushing through his hair. His forehead felt hot. The signs of the infection. When his hand trailed down Mac’s cheek caressing it, he felt that the nurses at Phoenix knew better how to shave a face. At least one improvement, he thought to himself. Jack also felt Mac’s growing restlessness.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jack whispered on, now one hand carefully resting on Mac’s shoulder, which also felt way to bony under the thin hospital gown. Jack made a mental note to ask Bozer to bring some real cloths for Mac. Or maybe he better asked Riley to ask Bozer. Jack watched how Mac’s eyes started to move under closed eyelids. He was surfacing, fast. Too fast for Jack's liking.

“Hoss, calm down. It’ll be alright. Just take your time,” Jack soothed him, but without success. Jack noticed how Mac’s pulse rate started to increase. He then rubbed slow circles up and down Mac’s shoulder whispering meaningless words. It was what he used to do and what used to calm Mac down. But it didn’t help.

“Mac? You with me? I know you don’t feel so good right now, but you need to calm down a little. You’re safe,” Jack said trying to fight Mac’s growing restlessness. With his eyes moving faster and faster under his still closed eyelids, Mac tossed his head from left to right and again. Jack got up from his chair and as gently as possible caught Mac’s head in his hands to stop him from tossing his head too harshly around.

“Mac, calm down. It’s alright. You’re safe. I’m here,” he said again, but it seemed only to spike Mac’s uneasiness. Jack had never felt as helpless as that before. This was not how it used to work. Usually, Mac would start to relax under his touch. Usually, Mac would calm down hearing his voice. This time, he had a reverse reaction, which Jack couldn’t find an explanation to. Jack watched Mac’s eyelids flutter and his breath sped up. To Jack these were all signals to a growing panic attack, but there was nothing he could do.

“Mac, slow down. Take deep slow breaths,” Jack instructed him without effect. He bent over Mac and took his kid’s hand placing it on his chest to let Mac feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. It didn’t work. Mac’s pulse was speeding up so was his heart rate.

“C’mon kid. Take deep slow breaths. In,” Jack said taking a breath himself, “and out,” he went out exhaling. He tried it several times, but nothing worked. Finally Mac’s eyes opened and stared directly into Jack’s.

“Hey kid, see? It’s only me. You’re safe. You can relax now,” Jack said. For a millisecond, he fel relief flow through his veins, until Mac’s heart rate started to speed up even further and the monitors started screaming.

“Mac!” Jack screamed in reflex to the screaming monitors. He didn’t comprehend what was going on with Mac – his kid. Suddenly he felt Mac fighting his grasp around his hand, which Jack still had pressed against his chest. Mac was fighting him. Immediately Jack let go off Mac’s hand, but it didn’t help much.

“Mac, please, you have to calm down,” he pleaded, but nothing. He was pushed aside by the doctor, who wore a grim expression on his face.

“Leave,” a whisper flew through the room, meeting Jack’s hears, but not meeting his comprehension.

“You have to leave, now,” the doctor's voice ordered him firmly. But jackdidn’t want to leave. He stood like frozen, until a nurse gently pushed him out of the room and closed the door. He didn’t make a move when the door was closed. He stared at the door, not believing what had just happened. Since when didn’t Mac allow him – Jack – to calm him down? The subsequent question hurt even more: did he cause that panic attack? Was Mac afraid of him? His heart shattered at the realisation that he couldn’t rule that out.


	27. Surfacing in Pain

An awful pain ripped through his body. It was difficult to breathe. His chest was tight, so awfully tight. And there was this pain shooting uncontrollably through his body. He’s never felt that much pain before. Somehow, he should know why it was so, but he didn’t. He didn’t understand what was happening. He couldn’t breathe. His physical pain was mixed with another ache. Something deeper, lodged inside of him and he couldn’t grasp it. It turned into a searing burn when a low voice started humming inscrutable words.

He felt hands on him. The mere touch burnt and he feared it might leave burn marks on his skin. He wished the words would stop and the hands would leave him alone and easethe pain he was in. But they didn’t. They went on. He tried to fight the touch, but he couldn’t. He could barely move a limb. What was happening to him? Where was he? The pain inside of him increased. He felt like shattering inside and like shards of broken glass were flying through his body like daggers piercing him from the inside.

He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. Was it even possible to feel more pain? He had to get away from it, but he was trapped. And then there was this voice again. He felt like he should know that voice, but he couldn’t match it, neither could he match the words, which were said. He struggled to get out, but he didn’t know from what. The words wouldn’t stop, the hands wouldn’t free him. It hurt. It hurt so awfully and he didn’t know what it was. He didn’t know what to do against it. He saw familiar images he didn’t want to see. It hurt to see that face, but he couldn’t tell why, just as he couldn’t tell where that pain came from.

Suddenly the words stopped. The hands left and he felt warm. The warmth embraced him and soothed his pain. Finally, he could relax. Everything started to fade. He felt darkness enclosing him. He was grateful for that.


	28. Another Secret

Matty couldn’t tell why she was sitting in that chair watching one of her agents. She’s never kept vigil. This time, however, was different, because she was afraid of losing this agent. It was never easy to lose one of her agents, but this one was differnt. There were simply no others agents that grew that close to her as did this one. Moreover, there was this looming secret she had kept for so long. The time for disclosure was nearing, though. She couldn’t stop thinking that maybe she was to blame, too. She’s been too close and too involved. She knew the background - his past. At some point it had become her job to protect. Not at one point, but that very night. Thinking back to that fateful night still sent shivers down her spine. However, she was certain that the blond agent started to add one and one together and came close to get the results of that maths and she dreaded the subsequent confrontation. Since she took the job at Phoenix, she asked herself every day whether the decision she made back then had been the right one. The answer was still the same, but the damage done was her fault, too. Maybe if she hadn’t made that one specific call, then maybe everything would’ve turned out to be alright. Her actions then were triggered by the fear that it wouldn’t, but escalate. This made it the right decision from her point of view.

She watched this agent. He was unconscious or asleep. She couldn’t tell, but the heavy duty drugs were knocking him out and it was good that way. A nurse had turned him onto his side. Since she entered the room to an inappropriate scene – the nurses were changing the bandaged on his back – she was glad about it. The back was covered with countless shrapnel and surgical wounds. After having a word with the doctor she suspected that the front didn’t look much better, but she didn’t want to know. 

Once in a while, he would wake up or at least open his eyes. He wasn’t very coherent then, hardly realising his surroundings. It was hard to witness such a sharp mind being dulled with pain and drugs. He was fading in front of her eyes, meat melting from his bones. But she was helpless, which was a feeling she hated, because it was uncommon for her. She always had a plan, always knew what to do. And now? This game was out of her hands. She looked at him. She could tell that he was once again about to wake up and then blue clouded eyes looked at her, brows frowning with confusion. She couldn’t tell whether the confusion stemmed from her presence or from his condition.

“Hey blondie, you with me?” she asked carefully. She had heard what happened when Mac woke up to Jack's face. She didn’t want to repeat that.

“Yeah,” replied a weak and hoarse voice. She ignored the jump her heart made at the realisation that there was indeed an improvement.

“How are you feeling?” she asked putting her hand on his cold one. He was communicating. This was a straw she could hold on to.

“Dunno,” he mumbled. The drugs and the fever made his speech slurred. It was painful to hear it. It was damn uncharacteristic and making it obvious that something was awfully wrong.

“Charlie?” he asked silently. This question shouldn’t surprise her, but it frightened her. It meant Mac remembered the explosion and she wasn’t sure whether this was a good thing. To the physical trauma they probably could add a psychological one.

“He’s okay. Back in New York to find out more about this faked timer. Told me to tell you to stop lazing around and start to help him,” she replied hoping that maybe some encouragement would help him to find the strength for a quick recovery.

“Should concentrate…on the remote …detonator…It was poorly constructed and…probably had only…a short range,” Mac explained to her. Each word spoken cost him valuable energy. She couldn't hide her amazement, thought. Only Mac could find a flaw while fighting for his life. But that was who he was, right? Always there to help and always eager to share his knowledge. She missed it. They all did, but nobody had the heart to say it out loud.

“I’ll tell Charlie,” She took his other hand into hers to stop him from talking. He needed to save his energy.

“Can I get you something?” she asked. She wanted to do something. She wanted to be useful. That was her purpose: to be useful.

“Cold,” came the answer. Her heart sunk. The monosyllabic answers was painful. It proved that the small but valuable explanation drained him. She missed his beloved lengthy explanations nobody could follow. She used to hate those explanations, but she hated it even more not to have to listen to them anymore.

“I’ll go get a nurse. Maybe we can get you some tea,” she replied and got up. She turned around when she reached for the door. He was asleep again. She sighed shaking off the feeling that this wasn’t good. On her way to the nurse station, she met James. He was checking on his son’s condition like clockwork. Every two hours sharp. She felt that this was rather the action of a concerned father, but it was misunderstood and she didn’t blame anyone. His secret games and his compulsive control made them all believe that he was solely acting for ulterior purposes. Nobody could imagine that he could be just a father. Indeed, looking from an outsider’s perspective it was hard to believe, because James didn’t act like one. He never had. He’d always been eager to teach his son something, to build his mind. There had always been a lesson to learn or something new to discover. It had been playful at the beginning and seemed to grow into something dangerous when he lost his wife. The occasions on which James simply acted like a loving and caring father were rare. Well, that was James, she thought. He was incapable of letting emotions slip. Emotions weren’t controllable, that was why he tried to keep them at bay most of the time. Times like these were hard on him, because his controlling strategies failed. Not everybody could see that.

“Matty, you here?” James asked raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked him back sensing where this conversation headed to. James was afraid and that made him a dangerous person, who sought for reasons to lash out.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t be too surprised, shouldn’t I? Since you’ve been around all the time, right?” he asked her, while sarcasm produced a sharp undertone, which stood no contradiction.

“James, you knew they were investigating on you and it being me turned out to be to your advantage, didn’t it? I did resolve all doubts about you, didn’t I?” she asked him back. It had been one of the few times when it was her rescuing him and his reputation. Maybe the one call that very night didn’t fit into that picture, but she had saved James from something he would’ve regretted and she still was sure she had saved this kid from painful experiences. It’s been the lesser of two evils. She was convinced of that.

“That you did, but you left my family - what was left of it - wreckage,” he hissed. The accusation hit her hard, but she wouldn’t accept it. She hadn’t made the decisions. She paved the path, but it had been James deciding to walk on it.

“No James, that was all you. After your wife died you turned into such an angry person. Nobody wanted to work with you anymore, because you became so reckless and unrelenting, not only risking your but also your partner’s life. We reached out to you. We tried to help, but you wouldn’t let us. You pushed us away and when we asked you to take a break, you accused us for not trusting you anymore, which by the way was true, because we were all afraid you were going to lose it. We opened all options for you to take the time for you and your son to heal, but you turned down every offer we made,” she countered. She still remembered the time after Mac’s mother died. James wouldn’t even take a few days off to make arrangements. He went on as if nothing had happened, but it was a lie. Something had happened and it had changed everything. Losing his wife had thrown him off kilter. He threw himself in the line of fire and when asked whether he wanted his son to lose his father too, he would shrug it off replying that the kid should start to grow up. It was these harsh words, which had hurt to listen to. It was these words, which made her pay closer attention to what went on behind the four walls. It was these words triggering the call she made.

“But you were the one offering the mission,” James countered. Of course he would. He was incapable to admit to a mistake. James MacGyver – Oversight – the incarnated perfection. At least that was how he saw himself when it came to his work. Perfection it was and he did expect nothing less from his son.

“And you decided to take it and to never come back,” she replied. She wouldn’t take the blame for his decisions. She had done enough she would have to answer for at some point, if she ever got a chance to do so, it was.

“You’re not getting off that easily,” James hissed and then turned around. He was right and she didn’t intent to. However, the anger inside of James raised her hackles again. This was not the mood in which he should visit his son, who was in no state of countering one of James’s anger fits if it came so far.

On her way out she passed the nurse station and informed them about Mac’s discomfort. Then she left. Her head was full of thoughts. This one night was replaying in her head over and over again. James’s accusations made her doubt herself. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she wanted to believe. Well, she didn’t believe to have played a mere innocent part in this one, but maybe the role she played was bigger than she thought it was. There was one thing she knew: she had to come clean about what she had done, but it was difficult. How to approach such a sensitive topic and when? Time was not her friend lately. She needed allies. At least one. She was determined to tidy up the mess, but she couldn't do it all by herself. This was yet another betrayal revealed and she needed to put a safety net in place to catch the afterwards fall. Though, she didn’t know who could help her tobuild such a safety net. Jack proved to be not as suitable for this purpose anymore. He had lost his ability to catch Mac. Bozer, on the other hand was way too emotionally involved. He loved Mac like a brother, but he wasn’t strong enough to block a possible onslaught. He wouldn’t catch Mac, but let him run off if that was what Mac wanted. Bozer was too kind for such a fight. She was still musing about a plan when she saw Jack entering the corridor.

“Dalton, my office. Now,” she instructed him. This was the best she had. She had to work with it. Improvise.


	29. And yet another secret

Jack heard Matty's clipped commandeering voice and it made him react immediately. It didn’t permit for choosing not to.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied and then followed her to her office. Her steps were determined and harsh. She was on a wrath, once again. Jack could only hope that he wasn’t the target. He wasn’t ready for another blow. He had hardly recovered from Mac’s reaction to his presence. It had knocked him out. And then there was this lingering doubt his conversation with Riley had sowed. He always had prided himself with not being like Mac’s father. For this, he fought her words, but he couldn’t make himself believe them. Turned out he just was like this man. When he revoked the Wookie life-debt, he some sort of cancelled off their friendship as well. This realisation hurt. The room for making amends just became smaller and smaller. Mac hasn’t forgiven his father. How was he supposed to forgive Jack?

When they entered Matty’s office, she firmly closed the door and motioned him to sit down in one of the chairs in front of the heavy wooden desk. She took out two glasses and filled them with ice, before she poured a generous gulp of whisky in it. Since his fight with Mac, his consumption of hard liquor rose dramatically. But since then life had taken so many turns that he started to spin out of control. He struggled to keep his composure, but it was getting harder with each passing day.

“Dalton, what I will tell you now, will not leave this room, until you’re told otherwise. Understood?” she told him taking a swallow of whisky.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Jack replied still being afraid of what he had gotten himself into.

“Good. I need your help tidying up a mess I had a hand in,” she started talking to him.

_She’s been observing James MacGyver for several months now. He was accused for being a double agent infiltrating the DXS and selling the information to the highest bidder. She knew that this accusation was nothing but made up. The reason for this investigation she was leading was that James MacGyver had become uncontrollable. On the last mission he shot a suspect in the leg injuring him severely. There had been no indication for the need of such an action. The suspect had surrendered. Behind closed doors rumour said that James MacGyver was going crazy. He wasn’t thinking about risks anymore and threw himself in the line of fire. His wife’s death had left him in a state of pure anger and hatred and James directed both at whoever spoke up to him or pronounced criticism. She’s been talking to him earlier that day, like she’s been talking to him so many times in the past years. She’s reminded him once again of his son, who needed a father and that he was the last piece of family he had. He wouldn’t listen to any of it._

_Now, she watched him from the outside through the window of the living room. He was working on something with his son, probably some kind of science project, she suspected. James had told her how important it was for him that his son would follow in his footsteps. He taught his son everything he knew. He wanted to shape and sharpen his son’s mind. She never knew what to think about it, but then again she wasn’t a mother and especially not the mother of a highly intelligent kid. So maybe, she thought, it was the right thing to do._

_She watched James explaining something to his son. She could turn on the audio device she hid in the house, but she didn’t. She wanted to leave James and his son some privacy. After all, his son wasn’t responsible for his father’s actions and shouldn’t bear the consequences. She knew that her bosses wouldn’t approve this, but she didn’t care. She watched James explaining on and on. His gestures grew more agitated. She watched the blond boy replying, his body language speaking of insecurity. Were they having an argument? She couldn’t tell. She debated as to whether to switch on the audio device, when suddenly James MacGyver stopped working on the project and threw it violently to the floor, while getting up from the chair, which dropped to the floor at the intensity of force with which James must have pushed himself from a sitting into a standing position. He towered above his son, who stepped back from his father._

_“Damn it Angus! How often do I need to explain this to you? Aren’t you getting tired of this? I surely am!” he screamed at his son, his voice loud enough that it could be heard on the streets through the open kitchen window. She saw Mac reply something, but didn’t hear what it was. She got out of the car and walked a little closer towards the house. She met an older woman walking with her dog. She shook her head obviously having heard what went on in MacGyver’s house._

_“Poor kid. When his mother passed away, his father turned into a real mean one. If it wasn’t for his grandfather, the kid wouldn’t even know what a loving home was,” the elderly lady told her, while passing by. Matty didn’t understand but then again somehow she did._

_“Stop it Angus! I don’t want to hear what you thought what was right. I want you to do it right. Full stop!” James screamed even louder and Matty debated as to what to do now. Was she supposed to do anything at all? She wasn’t here to intervene with family matters. Was she obliged to bring this fight, which seemed to come out of nothing, to an end? Then she watched James taking a step forward to his son, one hand raised in the air and she speed dialled his number on her clumsy cell phone. Furious about the interruption James turned around and barked into his phone._

_“James, meet me at the office, now!” she ordered and hung up without giving any further explanation._

_She broke all speed limits when she drove back to the office. Fortunately she was there before James. She took a file out of the vault. She had never imagined James being capable of letting it out on his son, but she has been mistaken._

_She skimmed through the files. She had been asked whether James MacGyver was fit for such a mission or whether he would go crazy for good. She didn’t know. What she did know was that James needed a way to channel his anger towards a proper target. His son definitely wasn’t the right one._

_She heard the firm knock on her door and permitted the person behind it – James – to enter._

_“What’s so important that you need to talk to me, now?” James asked. There was anger written all over his face. Seeing him seethe like this, she was convinced that she made the right decision._

_“This here,” she said and handed him the file. “I was asked whether I thought you are fit for such a mission. After you acting out on the last mission, I wasn’t sure. But I think, you’re the only right person for this job,” she told him. She meant it. He was the only one who knew the suspect down to his deepest secrets._

_“You want me to hunt down Jonah Walsh?” he asked her._

_“Yes. You’re the best for this job. You know him. If someone can find him, it’ll be you,” she told him._

_“When will it start?” James asked._

_“Put together a team and you’re ready to go,” she told him. It was two weeks before Angus MacGyver would turn ten._

“That means, if James MacGyver says he’s done everything to protect Mac, he actually meant it. Only in different way than we suspected until now,” Jack concluded after Matty finished her story. He wasn’t able to express how grateful he was that she’s been there. She’s been protecting Mac from a far worse nightmare than the one of an abandoning father. He had seen Riley. He witnessed what growing up with a violent parent meant and what it did to a kid. He was glad Matty spared Mac this experience – at least he hoped she did.

“And what now?” Jack went on. As much as he appreciated Matty taking him into confidence, he didn’t understand what he was supposed to do with this information.

“The old film Mac found. He knows that I’ve been around through a reflection in the window. However, he doesn’t know about this story. He doesn’t know that I was the one offering his father a mission, which would take him away from him,” she told him. Jack sighed. Somehow they all really messed up with the kid, starting with his father over Matty until Jack finally managed to drop the ball, too.

“Matty, he’ll never trust anyone of us again, if he finds out,” Jack explained his concerns. Mac wasn’t an easy one when it came to trust. It had taken Jack quite some time to get the kid to trust him. He earned it when he saved the kid from the terrorists after he walked out on Jack searching for a suspected IED he was incapable of finding. Additionally, Mac wasn’t easily fooled. Jack doubted that Mac was oblivious to Matty’s involvement. He might not have the full story, but Jack was convinced that Mac sensed something.

“I know, Jack. But I have to tell him,” she explained to him.

“And what shall I do about this despite sharing the burden with you?” Jack couldn’t tell where Matty wanted to go.

“I need you to be there for him,” she told him bluntly, which caught Jack by surprise. He thought everybody knew that he lost the special connection to Mac. The proof of it had been damn painful.

“I’m sorry Matty, but I think I’m the last person Mac would want around after listening to something like this,” Jack told her.

“The two of you have a lot to overcome, but you’re as stubborn as he is. Maybe even worse. If someone can fight for him, it is you, Jack,” she was putting all her hopes into him and under different circumstances he would’ve been proud of it. But this here? It scared him. If he lost that fight, he would lose Mac. But could he still lose Mac? Hasn’t he lost him already?

“Matty, I already lost that fight,” Jack then replied, because it felt like it was the truth. Mac wasn’t his kid anymore. He had pushed Mac away. Far, far away. Mac accepted it.

“You didn’t. I need you to fight for two. I need you to fight for Mac and for yourself,” Matty said.


	30. Interrogation

Mac had lost track of time. What has happened between the bomb going off in that cave and him waking up again and again in a hospital was a mere blur. He had trouble comprehending what was going on. He understood that he survived the explosion, but he felt awful enough to wish he hadn’t. Jack had been there a few times. Mac had seen and heard him. But Jack wasn’t supposed to be there. Not now. Not when Mac was in a state in which he was an easy target. Despite the pain he was constantly in and despite the effects the drugs had on him, he felt awfully vulnerable. He hated that feeling and he hated people seeing him in this condition. He wanted to be on his own. This vulnerability made him easy prey for any other onslaught. Whatever was about to come, he couldn’t fight it off. It would hit him with full force. On the other hand, he was quite sure it would finish him off - a thought which was quite appealing to him.

He felt a dull pain, which was supposed to be numbed off by the pain meds he got, but still made itself known when he moved wrong. They had removed further shrapnel from his body. Mac wasn’t sure how much they’ve already removed and how much was still in him. What if all this effort was in vain? But then again, doctors were used to this, right? Putting much effort in helping people and failing anyway. So why should he bother? He really felt like crap and wished it was over. He really did. He didn’t understand why the doctors and nurses still tried to save his life, while he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be saved. Why would they save his life if he was gonna risk it all over again anyway? Wasn’t that somehow paradox? Patching him up only to rip him apart again? It didn’t make much sense to him and he was tired of it. Why did they do it to him? Rip him apart and patch him up and rip him apart into more pieces. Didn’t they see the cracks this constant ripping apart and gluing back together left? This won’t last much longer – he won’t last much longer. At some point, he’ll collapse in on himself and then? What will they do if they can’t patch him up again? Leave him alone with what was left of him.

First his father left without even a note. Then he came back into his life promising a father-son-relationship. Then he turned out to be all controlling and distrustful. Then again he showed understanding. And then he would give Mac the feeling of not being enough anyway. What was he supposed to make of it? Hopes raised and then dashed.

It was the same with Jack. When they met for the first time, Jack didn’t want him around. Then he promised a lifelong friendship and then he cancelled everything off and now he was back again? What for? Why did he want Mac back again? Mac was confused and wasn’t sure whether it were the drugs or the fever or his inability to understand people.

He felt how he got all worked up again. The pain increased. Breathing started to be difficult. He reached out a shaking hand to the cup on the nightstand next to the bed, but failed to grab it. He was too weak to even lift a cup of water.

“Here, let me help you,” he heard his father’s voice. Mac didn’t notice that he entered the room. Now he was taking the cup and held it to Mac’s lips. And as much as he hated it, he didn’t have the strength to pull away. So he accepted it and took a few sips.

“Hey, take it easy,” his father said and then put the cup back on the nightstand. Mac looked at him. He didn’t know why he was there. He suspected it couldn’t be something good.

“What are you doing here?” Mac asked hating his weak voice.

“I just wanted to check on you,” his father replied nonchalant and sat down in the chair next to the bed. Mac felt uncomfortable. He didn’t want his father around. Not when he was in such a state. Not when he couldn’t defend himself. Mac tried to get into a more upright sitting position, but he was too weak. His arms gave in and his body protested with pain driving through him like lightning. No, this was not a condition in which he wanted to face his father, but he had hardly the strength to fight him off.

“Angus, be careful. Just stay put,” his father told him sternly when he witnessed Mac’s futile attempts of getting into a position allowing him for more dignity.

“I take it, you’re not feeling too good, aren’t you?” his father asked. Mac could hear true concern, but he didn’t permit himself to believe it. His father had always had some sort of ulterior reasons. If he was here now and displayed his concern, then it was because he wanted something from Mac.

“I…guess you know, how I feel,” Mac replied. He was sure as hell that his father had the doctors inform him on his condition. Probably his father knew even better than he did how he felt.

“Well, I talked to your doctor earlier today. He’s concerned about the infection and your fever. They don’t get it under control. Every time your temperature goes down and they think the infection is finally battled, your fever spikes again. They are afraid of a sepsis,” his father told him with an accusing undertone, which made Mac angry. It wasn’t like he enjoyed being stuck in hospital with an IV sticking in his neck. He wasn’t a fan of the constant pain he was in and the surgeries the doctors ordered again and again. Well, and he definitely could live without an infection. Unfortunately though, he didn’t have the strength to tell his father just that, so he let it slide. His body, however, reacted. His breath sped up again.

“But you’re awake now and I’m glad that you are,” his father stated. Mac felt like caught in a trap. His father's dominant presence was smothering him, while he couldn't hide his weaknes. His uneasiness was translated by his heart pounding fast and hard against his chest. He had trouble controlling his breathe. He was concentrating as much as he could, but he was close to fail.

“How did it happen?” his father then asked out of nothing and Mac felt like he was hit by ball to the head. What was this man talking about? Or rather was this really going to be a conversation they were having here and now?

“What?” he asked trying once again to sit upright. This time he ignored the pain and managed to get into a halfway upright position. He was still not on eyelevel with his father but his father wasn’t staring down on him either.

“I mean the explosion. What happened? You and Charlie you are the best EODs nationwide. What went wrong?” his father started analysing the situation and Mac’s stomach started to cramp with disgust. Suddenly he felt nauseas and he swallowed dryly to prevent his stomach from spilling its contents.

“Seriously?” Mac simply asked back, because there was nothing else he could do and his mind was blank. His brain just didn’t function right with all the meds in his systems. It took him some time to comprehend and even much longer to react.

“I know you got intel from an informant. Did you see him?” his father went on not realising that Mac was hardly following his interrogation and was even further away from being capable of answering his questions. So he stayed mute, blinking at his father, not understanding why he was there and why this was happening.

“Angus, you with me?” his father asked. Mac blinked again. His stomach started cramping.

“Angus, focus. Did you see this guy around your base or around one of the areas you and Charlie found the IEDs?” his father went on holding a photo right in front of Mac’s face. Mac didn’t recognise the man, but he had the feeling he should. Those eyes. Those narrow-set eyes full of hatred. He pushed the image forming in his mind away. Far, far away, back into the corner where he had stored it since Jalalabad. The man on the photo. He was about forty, maybe a little younger than Jack. Jack. The mere thought about his friend, or his former friend depressed him. His heart squeezed together grieving the loss. Mac couldn’t repair the damage done. The crack was too huge for him to repair it. No paper clips or duct tape, not even his well-trusted Swiss army knife could repair it. The grudge between them was too deep as to overcome. At least for Mac it felt like that. He missed Jack. He really did, but he didn’t have the strength to fight for him - for their friendship. He was tired. No matter how hard he wanted to do something to repair the cracks, he just couldn’t. He was useless.

“Angus, did you see this guy?” his father asked on. Mac shook his head. He hasn’t seen him. Short black hair, he looked like an Afghani, but Mac couldn’t be certain about that.

“Angus, you need to concentrate. I know it’s a lot I ask from you, but we need to analyse what has happened. Consider this a debrief. Analysing what went wrong, so we can prevent this in the future,” Mac’s father explained and suddenly the pain in Mac’s abdomen became sharper. He clenched his jaw. His breath went fast. He knew he should be careful with his surgical wounds, but he couldn’t slow down his breathing and he couldn’t stop his stomach from fighting the water he did drink only seconds ago.

“How…are you…supposed to analyse a mistake…when there is none?” Mac answered through clenched teeth and between breaths. He still didn’t know why his father had shown him that photo. His stomach made flip flops and the sharp pain in his abdomen grew more intensive. He didn’t notice that he was clutching his belly in pain.

“Then, why are you here?” James suddenly snapped in his teacher mode. It was the same as usual. No matter what Mac said, it would set his father off. He’s always been like this. Mac could never tell what had actually made his father angry. That was what Mac remembered.

“Did…you talk to Charlie? Did he…tell you about the faked timer? Would…be glad to hear your…opinion on how…to cope with an explosive…when…you don’t even know that it was set off,” Mac tried to shut up his father. He looked at him. He was about to say something, but was stopped my Mac throwing up the meek contents of his stomach. Throwing up turned out to be a bad idea. The pain in his abdomen doubled and Mac couldn’t hold back a groan and clutched his arm harder against his belly curling into himself.

“Angus?” his father asked hovering over him, one hand resting on his shoulder, while the alarm of all the monitors went off. The pain ran through Mac’s body and there was nothing he could do. He felt a tear slip and then another one. He curled further into himself. It was what he tried to ease the pain, but it didn’t help.

“Angus? Tell me, what’s wrong…are you in pain?” It was the dumbest question Mac had heard in years and he would have laughed loudly if the pain hadn't had a tight grip around him. Mac felt the hand he clutched around his belly becoming warm. There was something sticky seeping out of the blanket he was covered in and he groaned. Not only in pain, but at the realisation that he probably pulled the stitches which were supposed to close the surgical wound.

“Angus? Can…is there anything I can do?” his father’s voice sounded despaired, but Mac didn’t care. He was glad when finally the doctor entered the room and sent his father away. Once again he felt the warm sensation running through his body and he was all too willing to give in to the embrace of the soothing darkness. The last thing he saw was the photo falling to the floor as light like a feather not making the tiniest sound. He wondered about the missing noise, before everything turned dark.


	31. Sad memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I'm playing around with the canon here. Please bear with me. Thank you so much for reading this story:)

Bozer was on his way to visit Mac. It bothered him that there was still no considerable improvement. His friend didn’t seem to get any better. It worried him. How long could it take to recover from something like that? He was told that a surgical wound had burst while Mac’s father was visiting Mac. Bozer wasn’t sure what to think of this information. Maybe they should ban Mac’s father from visiting. But that was probably impossible. Mac’s father was Oversight and the boss of the whole Phoenix. He entered the room and found his friend sleeping, which wasn’t new. Mac seemed to be sleeping all the time. That felt so wrong. Usually, Mac barely got enough sleep. He was always busy with something. If it wasn’t a mission, it was a project he worked on.

Visiting his friend wasn’t easy for him. Watching Mac like that reminded him too much of Josh. He had helplessly watched his brother fade away. He would never forget that look on his brother’s face when he realised that there was nothing left to do. The events of that day were still hunting him in his worst nightmares. He had these nightmares a lot lately. Mac reminded him, because Mac started to show the same signs like Josh did.

“Hey Mac, I brought you some of this Rooibos tea you like,” he greeted his friend not expecting a reply. The gladder he was, when his friend pried his eyes open and looked at him.

“Hey, that’s great…thank you,” Mac said. His voice not as strong as it used to be. Not more than a whisper. But it was there and Mac was speaking in fluent and coherent sentences. It wasn't much of an improvement, but it was one and Bozer would take all he could get.

“How are you doing?” he asked Mac, although it was a senseless question. He didn’t get a verbal answer, but some careful shoulder shrug as response.

“Not much better then,” Bozer concluded while handing the cup of tea to his friend. Mac’s hands were shaking and Bozer realised that he didn’t have the strength to hold the cup all by himself. Weak like a kitten, that was what people said. Well, a weak kitten was cute. Seeing Mac like this was painful. This wasn’t his friend anymore. Mac was independent, had always been. Now he needed for such small things the help of his friends. Bozer was happy to provide him any help at any time, but not receiving any kind of resistance was scary. Whenever any sort of help was opposed on Mac, he would fight it. Bozer took a closer look. An image of Josh flashed through his mind. It hurt. It tore at his heart. He closed his eyes and counted to three to get his balance back. This small imbalance didn’t remain unnoticed. Mac cast him a curious look. He always watched his friends carefully – watched out for them.

“I don’t understand it. Maybe they should try different antibiotics then,” Bozer expressed his impatience with Mac’s progress and shoke off the memory. He saw Mac taking a deep breath while he tried to sit a little more upright. Bozer wanted to approach and help him, but he stopped mid-tracks. He didn’t want Mac to feel like an invalid. For Bozer it was important to let Mac know that he was still the same.

“You remember your attempt of an earring?” Mac asked him not hiding the small smirk which crossed his face. Bozer could have jumped of happiness at its sight, because it was evidence that his Mac – his best friend - was still there. It wasn’t much left of him, but there was still something he could hold onto. The euphoria vanished the second Bozer saw the pale, nearly translucent complexion of his friend’s face and again it wasn’t only Mac he saw, but Josh.

“Yeah, the inflammation took nearly two weeks and my earlobe was swollen to the size of an egg,” Bozer remembered.

“And your Mom was beyond pissed, when she found out,” Mac added causing Bozer to chuckle. He had been fourteen. Mac was a little younger. His mother blew her top when she found out that Bozer had pierced his ear and when it turned out to be inflamed she told him that was what comes of it, but at the end she helped him with her homemade remedies.

“Yes, she was, but not only at me. I remember her asking you, why such a smart boy was capable of supporting a stupid idea like that,” he remembered his mother. She treated Bozer and Mac like siblings, always had. If one of them did something stupid, both were in trouble - the one for doing something stupid and the other one for not looking out for the other and stopping him. That was how it worked at his home, but it also helped forming the bond between him and Mac and that was why he was so grateful for his mother opening her heart for Mac, too.

“I did have a scientific interest,” Mac replied. That was something Bozer could easily believe. Already in school Mac had to explain and examine everything from a scientific angel. He never lost that streak.

“The thing is, I don’t understand where you wanna go with this story,” Bozer told him taking the cup of tea from Mac’s still trembling hands.

“Well, even after you pulled out the ring, the infection remained,” Mac went on and Bozer slwoly got the point of the conversation.

“So you say your body reacts to the shrapnel like my body reacted to that earring. Doesn’t sound very accurate for your standards,” Bozer concluded, but somehow it made sense. He only wished it was just an earring causing the infection and not the massive amount of shrapnel they had found in Mac’s body. Mac was lucky to still be alive and Bozer really appreciated it. But he wanted his friend back. He hated hospitals. He hated seeing Mac like that. And then he saw it again – Josh.

“What’s on your mind?” Mac asked Bozer and Bozer tried to put on his poker face which he knew he would fail, because Mac looked right through it. Though, he wasn’t sure whether he had a right to bother Mac with his own problems, while Mac had so much to fight off.

“Nothing,”Bozer denied everything not wanting to bother Mac. Looking at his friend, he could tell that Mac wasn’t buying his answer.

“C’mon Bozer, what is it,” Mac demanded an honest answer and Bozer couldn’t hold it back. He couldn’t lie to Mac and maybe sharing the memory with his friend would make it better. Maybe it was what he had to do to feel some hope again, because he’s been so hopeless for so long now.

“I’m thinking about Josh a lot lately. I don’t know why…it’s just that I miss him a lot,” Bozer said and settled down in the chair. Mac’s expression showed understanding and Bozer felt bad for subtly asking for Mac’s comfort when he himself was in the dire need for so much of it.

“I miss him, too,” Mac replied. Bozer believed him. It had always been the three of them. They’ve spent the whole summer holidays playing in their garden or in the near forest. It had been such a carefree time for all three of them. In the evening his mother would wait for them with some lemonade and dinner. Usually Mac would leave before that, no matter how often his mother offered him to stay.

_“Josh, stop it and put the gun down!” Bozer screamed in his high pitched voice afraid a gunshot would go off._

_“Josh please, that’s not funny,” he heard Mac’s voice calling out. Bozer ran towards Mac, who had found shelter in their small shed. Then it happened so fast, but Bozer still remembered it in slow motion. Josh tripped over a small branch laying in the grass. He fell, his elbow hitting the ground first and then there was that sound. The bang! Bozer jerked and waited for the pain to come, but it never did. He looked down at his body to see the red spot he expected to form on his abdomen, but there was nothing. Meanwhile he saw Mac running towards Josh._

_“Josh!” Mac called out. Bozer’s focus went to his brother who lay still in the grass. The red spot he expected to mess up his white t-shirt was forming on the green grass around his brother, who was whimpering. He shook off the shock and joined Mac._

_“Josh! What happened? Are you hurt?” Bozer went on rambling and then he saw the red stain blossoming on his brother’s t-shirt only little under his chest. Josh was crying, because he was in so much pain. He was screaming for their mother and so did Bozer. He was afraid. He was so awfully afraid. He didn’t know much about weapons at that point of time, but it was enough to know that his brother was really badly injured. He was so scared. He had never felt so scared in his life._

_“Do something, Mac!”Bozer begged. Already then it had been Mac who always knew what to do and how to solve a problem. He trusted his friend to know what was to do then as well._

_“Mac!” Bozer begged again._

_“Get you parents Boze,” Mac replied. Bozer didn’t know whether Mac was shocked and in panic like he was. Bozer imagined not, because Mac never panicked. Bozer still remembered how Mac tried to stop the bleeding by pressing his hands on Josh. It didn’t help. He ran inside to get his parents. He still remembered how his father lifted up Josh and ran to the car. He saw the car speeding away from the driveway. He still felt Mac’s presence when his parents drove to the hospital. Mac would stay with him until his parents came back home without Josh. He still saw his father’s dark face and his mother’s red swollen eyes. He felt her arms around him when she wrapped him into a tight embrace, while whispering into his ears that Josh would never come back home again. He started crying, because he understood what it meant and his father would crouch down next to him and all three of them would sit on the kitchen floor in each other’s arms mourning and crying. Bozer never knew when Mac left, but he wasn’t there when they got up from the floor. His parents never accused him for anything. They never asked him why he hadn’t watched his brother more closely. They never blamed him for what has happened._

“Mac, don’t make me lose another brother,” it slipped out of Bozer’s mouth before he knew that this thought was formed in his mind. He took Mac’s hand. It felt so cold. It felt as cold as Josh had looked like when he was lying on the lawn of their front yard.

“I just can’t take losing my other brother, too,” Bozer went on tears trailing down his cheek. This was his fear when he looked at Mac. When he looked at him, he saw Josh bleeding out on the front lawn. It were the same signs.

“Boze…” Mac was about to say something, but Bozer shook his head. He didn’t need to be placated with warm words which weren’t true. He needed a promise – a rock solid promise. But Mac wouldn’t give it to him. He couldn’t. It wasn’t in his hands anymore.

“No Mac, don’t you think after what happened with Josh that I don’t see the signs? I know you for so long. It’s obvious that you’re not fighting anymore. You let it all happen, but you stopped fighting,” Bozer said and got up. He needed to leave, the tears now breaking free from him. He needed air. He couldn’t see Mac like that anymore. He couldn’t take being reminded of Josh any longer. His heart broke into sharp pieces at the mere thought of losing Mac. It shattered him.


	32. Around the fire pit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commmenting and kudoing :D

They sat around the fire pit. Bozer and Jack hadn’t called truce yet, but they were civil with each other, which Riley proclaimed as success that was to be celebrated with pizza and beer, but nobody of them really felt like that. Especially Bozer felt like taking the pizza and throwing it into all directions acting out on an anger fit, but he refrained from that. Visiting Mac and seeing him broken like this made his heart feel awfully heavy. Whoever it was he had been visiting and talking to, it hadn’t been his friend. It couldn’t be, because Mac would fight. Mac would complain about being stuck in hospital. Mac would declare that he was fine and could go home. Mac would try to bias him into an escape plan. The person he’s been visiting hasn’t done any of it. He let it all happen to him. The poking and prodding from doctors and nurses; the fever and the infection; all those other injuries. He just let them do it. Do it to him without resistance. He wasn’t fighting anymore and Bozer had a hard time convincing himself that the fight with Jack was the root cause for it.

Bozer felt that there was more to this. There’s been so much shit piling up in Mac’s life. Eventually the pile had to collapse and it did – now. He was there, but helpless. There was nothing he could do. Maybe he failed Mac like Jack did, like Mac’s father did and all the others? He hasn’t seen it coming, but he felt that he should have. He should have been more stubborn. He should have been more insistant on cancelling his date with Leanne to spend the evening with Mac. He should have talked to Mac about his father or at least he should’ve tried more fiercely. In all those years he had always backed down when Mac told him he wasn’t in the mood to talk about this or that. He let it slide and eventually forgot about it. He had saw the signs, when Mac was off because something was going on, but he never forced Mac to talk about it. He knew when Mac was hiding something from him, but he never went into it thinking he was respecting Mac’s privacy. But was it really that? Maybe he just was too absorbed with his own life that he couldn’t be bothered to ask certain questions. Maybe he was evading Mac’s reaction to questions about issues he – Mac himself – had classified as sensitive issues.

Bozer still remembered that he entered that forbidden terrain once, when they were still in high school. They sat in their tree house and he simply asked Mac how he felt about his mother’s death, since Bozer came to notice that Mac’s always been depressed on that specific day of the year. Afterwards he wished he hadn’t asked that question. Mac screamed at him to mind his own business and stormed off. He wouldn’t talk to Bozer for the rest of the week until the next Monday. He then approached Bozer and apologised for his behaviour. Bozer hadn’t thought about it then, because he was simply glad to have back his best friend. But maybe he should’ve asked Mac why he was apologising, because there was nothing to apologise for.

He sighed. He had dropped the ball, too. He took a swig of the cold beer. It tasted stale. It wasn't right that they gathered here aroud the fire pit without Mac.

“What’s on your mind, Boze?” Riley asked him. Her calm voice dragged him out of his thoughts, which was a good thing. They were getting darker with each passing second and he was afraid of not being able to get out of that darkness anymore.

“Just thinking,” he replied, though. He was unsure whether he should share his thoughts. He knew that he would feel better afterwards, but he wasn’t sure whether it was right to bother the others with it.

“About what?” Riley asked on. He felt her soft eyes on him and the concern they showed soothed his troubled soul.

“I’m just afraid that Mac’s not fighting. You know…” he told her – them. It didn’t make his heart feel lighter, but it made his mind a little less occupied.

“Boze, Mac…he’s really, really badly injured. It’s not…one of those injuries he gets on a mission and bounces back from in his Mac-speed,” she explained to him taking his hand into hers, the smooth skin of her hand caressing his rough hands.

“I know, but he’s not fighting it. He lets it all happen to him,” Bozer explained to her while glaring at Jack. Although he wasn’t as convinced anymore that it was Jack’s fault, he was still an easy target to direct his anger at. Their eyes locked and he saw that Jack understood what he was saying. He felt the same, had witnessed it, too.

“Boze, he’s just…tired,” Riley said struggling to deny what they all saw, but were reluctant to accept. They were losing him. They were losing Mac and there was nothing they could do about it. They couldn’t reach out to him anymore.

“No, Riley. We’re losing him and we’re to be blamed for it!” Bozer suddenly screamed kicking the beer bottle over the deck.

“Bozer, you need to calm down. It’s no use for anyone if we start blaming ourselves for something like that. We couldn’t have prevented it,” Jack tried to comfort Bozer, but Bozer had another opinion on that.

“Just go on telling yourself that to clear your conscience, but truth is that we fucked up. Nice friends we are. Instead of helping Mac, we let him stew on his own,” Bozer retorted.

“Bozer, how can we help him, if he doesn’t want us to? I mean, you know better than anyone that Mac prefers to deal with things on his own. He’s not like you. His thoughts are not written on his face. He has a tough poker face,” Riley replied. She was right, but at least he –Bozer – should be able to look behind that façade, shouldn’t he be?

“Yeah and we should be able to look behind it,” Bozer wasn’t satisfied with her answer. He knew Mac was a hard nut to crack, but he should’ve been worth a try, at least.

“Bozer, don’t beat yourself up. You’re a good friend – Mac’s best friend and I doubt there could be any better friend in the world he could get. You support him and try to hold him up when he’s in danger of drowning. So please, don’t be so hard to yourself,” Jack told him.

“Yeah? You sure about that? Let me give you an example and then think about whether I really am such a good friend. I know that Afghanistan was bad and I know that the one or other bad thing happened there, but he never talked to me about it. I asked whether there was anything he wanted to talk about when he arrived back stateside, but he said no. But that was a lie. There has happened something. I know it, because he was having nightmares – bad ones, nearly every night. He still gets them after they real rough missions, but he never talked to me. Aren't you supposed to talk to a friend about such things?,” Bozer said noticing how Jack clenched his jaw. Jack knew more about it. Of course he did. He knew everything, because Mac relied on him, not on Bozer.

“Bozer, Mac's decision to keep what has happened in the sandbox to himself as nothing to do with you and it especially doesn't indicate that you're not a good friend,” Jack replied darting dark glances over to Bozer.

“Easy for you to say, because you’ve been with him. He talks to you and tells you everything, because he thinks I’m not man enough to take it,” Bozer spat at Jack. He was angry. He and Mac had been friends for so long and then at some day Jack appeared on the scene and things started to shift. Jack and Mac were friends in battle and then they’ve been working for the DXS all the while Bozer didn’t have a clue. They never talked to him. There were secrets Mac only shared with Jack and it didn’t sit right with him. It never had. At some point Jack came to replace Bozer as best friend.

“That’s not true. We haven’t been partnered up for the whole period he served. Take Al Pena for example. I didn’t know the story until the day the Ghost turned up. I heard rumours at the base but Mac never told me. If Mac decides to never talk about something, he doesn’t and you will never find out about it,” Jack explained to Bozer, which somehow made Bozer feel a little better, because it meant that Mac was treating them all the same. The distrust was there and they shared it. Jack got up and sat down next to Bozer.

“You still remember the day, when you found out about Mac’s profession?” Jack asked him wrinkles of concern surrounding his eyes. Bozer nods, because he doesn’t know what Jack wants him to understand.

“Well, I know how that felt. Because Mac’s been hiding something from me for quite a while, too,” Jack told them. Riley got a little closer handing them both another bottle of beer.

“It is true Afghanistan was bad and if it wasn’t for his stubbornness he would’ve died in Jalalabad. The thing is, I thought he didn't remember what happened, because that was what he told everyone. Turns out, it was a lie. He never confided in me,” Jack said.

“So, what happened in Jalalabad?” Bozer asked.

“I made a wrong decision and Mac paid the bill for it,” Jack started telling them.


	33. Interlude

He knew about the cracks. He knew that they were there, although they were hidden under the brave façade. It was so easy to forget about them. A cheeky remark here, a smile there and those eyes, which told him that it was alright – that he was alright. These cracks of which he thought he had repaired gaped widely open. The glue didn’t hold him together anymore and now he crumbled in front of his eyes until there was nothing left but a pile of pieces. He had promised to hold him together. He failed. Now he had to try to hold together what was still left as one piece, which he feared wasn’t much. But there was no time to glue the pieces back into place. Damn, he had given him the final blow, although he was aware of what was behind the light carefree attitude. He should have measured his actions more carefully. Now he had no idea how to handle things. Was he even supposed to handle anything? Hadn’t he lost the right to do so? But he would regret if he didn’t give it a try. Only because he closed the eyes from what was happening, it didn’t mean that it didn’t happen and yes, he was fading away.


	34. Jalalabad - Aftermath

“So that’s how you two became friends. It wasn’t the booby trap,” Riles concluded after Jack relieved his conscience and told them his part of the story about Jalalabad. It was a selfish thing to do, but he wanted Bozer to know that Mac fooled everyone if he wanted to. It wasn’t about being a good or a close friend. It was about looking behind that façade which was near impossible. If even Bozer, who grew up with Mac, wasn’t able to do so, how was the rest of the team supposed to?

“No, it wasn’t. It really was the booby trap,” Jack replied. Indeed, Jalalabad was why he owed the kid his Wookie life debt, but they didn't become friends afterwards. That had been a slower and more subtle process. Nevertheless, he regretted not having reacted when it was confirmed that the kid went missing. He should’ve been there for Mac, should’ve searched for him, but he walked away from Mac and the uneasiness that came along with a cowardly decision. Because face it: he had manoeuvred them into the trap and he should've been the one left behind. It had been his responsibility and he shifted it to a kid that wasn't supposed to make such grave decisions. But he couldn't be bothered, because didn't mean much to him back then. He saw him as a scrawny burger named kid, who was still too young to be in the forces and who was getting on his nerves. Full stop.

“Why was I never informed about it? Mac told me he had listed me as next of kin,” Bozer replied. There was anger in his voice and Jack understood.

“You were, but he didn't want you to worry,” Jack told him which soothed the tension of the atmosphere at least a bit.

_Five days after having survived the hell of Jalalabad, he was informed that his EOD-tech had survived, too. Some comrades had picked him up on their way back to the base. He has been walking through the desert while he was in a severe condition. Jack, however, had pushed aside any thought about his EOD-tech as well as any self-reproach. The sheer determination he has seen in those young eyes, the selflessness, were hunting him. It made his own mistakes and flaws outstanding and that wasn’t right, because it caused self-doubts and Jack Dalton never ever doubted himself. That was why he persuaded himself that there were other, more important problems to be solved. And indeed, there was one. They wanted to nail him and Jalalabad, no matter how fucked up the circumstances were, was their chance. But until now, they didn’t get a damn reason. His comrades, those who survived, stood behind him. They didn’t let any word of criticism slip. The leadership, though, was pissed off, because he lost his EOD-tech, who he came to think of as ‘an EOD-tech’. It took him two hours back in the base to find out that he was wrong about that. It was not ‘an EOD-tech’, but ‘the EOD-tech’, a valuable asset he had lost in the course of conduct. There was nothing they could do, though. Everybody testified that the bomb nerd acted upon his own responsibility. There was nothing he could be blamed for. Now the said EOD-tech was back and there were questions and Jack knew they were eager to listen to the bomb nerd’s version of what happened. His damn career was now in the hands of a twen from the sun shine state of California. It would have been hilarious if the situation hadn’t been so serious for him._

_He marched to the infirmary. He had to find out about the EOD-tech and especially about his mood. Did he seek revenge? Would he provide the nails for his career’s coffin? He spotted the blond and was about to approach him, but a nurse stepped out from the cubicle his EOD-tech was placed in and blocked his way with crossed arms and grim face._

_“I need to talk to MacGyver,” he said._

_“That has to wait. The doctor’s with him right now,” she countered not stepping aside and drawing the curtain to block his view. He mustered her up and decided it was futile arguing with her, but maybe he could get some information from her to assess what he was dealing with._

_“Was his family informed?” he asked officially. He was still the Overwatch. The burger named bomb nerd was still his responsibility. It was that and the need to be prepared. Facing the questions from his superior and supervisor was one thing. Facing teary eyed families asking why nobody helped their little darling and protected him from getting injured, was another one. Families had a tendency to forget that their kids were grown-ups and made their own decisions for which they had to carry the responsibility. They tended to seek the blame with someone else, but please not with Jack._

_“No worries there, Sergeant. You won’t have to face that drama,” the nurse replied knowingly. Jack stayed silent. No family then. This tiny fact made the kid’s decision appear in a whole different dimension and it made working with the MacGyver so much more dangerous. There was nothing more dangerous than a soldier, who had nothing left to lose and was stationed in a critical warzone. Jack fumed with anger. He should’ve been informed about something like that, not only because of his own, but also of his team’s safety._

_“He surely does have a name scribbled down as next of kin,” he asked on fearing that maybe there was a winy girlfriend to answer to._

_“He does, but asked us not to inform Mr. Bozer unless to prepare him for a return in a casket, which luckily will not be the case,” she went on. The words hit him hard like a strong well placed blow. Silent waters are deep, but he never thought about the actual depth he would find._

_“Can you estimate when he will be back on duty?” he asked her on. To be honest, he really didn’t care much about the boy. He had been too preoccupied with his own problems. Added, he still was convinced that the boy wouldn’t stay long. But his subconscious did have other plans for him. Already then it was his subconscious which let him think about the scrawny EOD-tech as a kid – his kid. It was his subconscious which made him stay in infirmary and press for information, although his manners weren’t gentle._

_“I wouldn’t expect him back too soon. He was severely injured.”_

_In the evening, Jack would learn that ‘severely’ included a concussion, serial rib fractures, dehydration and pneumonia. His supervisor would also inform him that these injuries were probably sustained during torture. The second Jack heard that word, he swallowed dryly, because he was content that after going through something like this, the kid would seek revenge. Reading his mind, his supervisor also told him that he was lucky. The kid seemed to have lost his memory and couldn’t remember what has happened. He was off the hook and Jack took this fact gingerly as given. He didn’t have reason for doubts. The injuries the kid sustained spoke of a massive physical trauma, which was enough for him to believe that the kid suffered amnesia and didn’t remember what happened. Jack also concluded that the kid would be sent back home and he would have to put up with yet another EOD-tech. He decided he could live with that. The boy didn’t belong there, especially not as the dangerous risk he was._

_He couldn’t have been much more mistaken. They didn’t even have the decency to send him to a hospital in Kabul, but nourished him to field fitness at the base, too afraid to lose their EOD-tech again._

_Jack never had to answer for what happened in Jalalabad. He didn’t face disciplinary measures and hasn’t been disrated. He’s been lucky after all and he accepted it. It didn’t relieve his conscience though, not matter how hard he tried to pretend he didn’t care. His subconscious had something else in mind for him. It would pave his way to one of the most valuable gifts he had ever received, a gift which would change him and his life for the better. He just wasn’t aware of it back then._

_His way began that night. His subconscious was gnawing away at him. He couldn’t sleep that night. He was tossing and turning and the comrade he shared a bunk with started complaining. Jack couldn’t stop thinking about the EOD-tech, who had no family left, sacrificed his ass for someone he didn’t even come to like and now mysteriously was back. He had fought his way out of terrorists’ hands. He endured torture and had been about to walk back to the base through the fucking desert. That gained him his recognition. He was tough. Probably tougher than most of his comrades, but just didn’t appear like that. After another frustrated remark from above, Jack got up and stepped out of the tent. His way led him to the infirmary. He couldn’t tell what was driving him, but something was pushing and pulling him into the direction. And then he stood there, watching a nurse change the dressing of a wound on the kid’s hip. When she spotted him she smiled. She thought he was there for a visit, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t there to keep vigil. But his subconscious told him otherwise._

_“You can go in now, but he’s sleeping. Didn’t even wake up when I was cleaning his wound,” she told him. She was young. A newbie._

_He stepped forward. The kid lay on his side, curled together making himself as small as possible. The left side of his face was covered in one large bruise. No wonder that the kid didn’t remember a thing after such a blow. He sat down and watched the kid, the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was amazed at how still the kid was. No noise, no movement. He just lay there. What Jack didn’t know then was that this was a sign of the discomfort the kid was in. The stiller Mac was, the more discomfort he experienced. It was something Jack learned over the time he worked with him._

_Jack continued watching him until dawn announced the next day. He then got up and left. He didn’t know what to think. His mind was somehow blank. Now he knew it was the beginning of the process of his change – his development, which the kid had subtly started and which he wasn’t aware of until it happened. He was grateful for it._

_They found the terrorists’ cell and the place where they had kept the kid only one day after. Jack and his team had been assigned to clear the place. There was a tacit but mutual agreement among the team. They made no prisoners that day._

“How could Mac pretend to remember nothing for so long?” Riley asked. It was the same question Jack had asked over and over again. It seemed impossible, but it was yet another depth he had to learn about.

“That is one thing, but Jack’s been a real asshole,” Bozer stated and Jack didn’t blame him, because it was true. He’s been. He’s been dark for most of his life. That was what a job like his did to someone. First Army, then Delta Forces, CIA. He was trained to kill and not to make excuses. To bear that burden and to not break under the pressure of the atrocities he had witnessed and even taken part in, he had put on the shield of a knuckle-dragger, as Mac would put it. He was a brutal killer. It had taken him some time to find his human side. And he damn well knew whom to thank for that fortunate development. He was content that if he had known Mac already when he was dating Diane, things would’ve turned out differently. He wouldn’t have lost it on Elwood and not in front of Riley. Mac had shown him how to channel his anger and fears with other means than fist fights. He knew though that this old Jack was still in him and unfortunately it had been Mac who got to learn that lesson. The more Jack was determined to let Mac know that he was still Jack – the Jack he had gotten to form. Then, suddenly, a thought crossed Jack’s mind. Something felt odd. His spidy-senses started tickling.

“Riley, do you know where Mac and Charlie…where it happened?” he asked Riley who shot him perplexed glances.

“Somewhere in the Jalalabad region, but I don’t know exactly where, I can look it up. Why?” she told him, Jack nodded.

“Because I think I have a lead here,” Jack replied and got up. He had to talk to Matty. And he had to talk to Mac. About Jalalabad and why he didn’t tell him about what had happened. But first, he needed to see Matty.


	35. Let's talk about Jalalabad

“Dalton, what is it you wanted to talk to me?” Matty demanded in her usual harsh tone.

“Did Mac and Charlie have an idea, who was lying out the IEDs?” he asked her back.

“They suspected it was the Ghost, but evidence doesn’t back that theory. So for now, they don’t have a lead, if this is what you want to know,” she replied eyeing him suspiciously. They’ve been working together. She smelled that he was having an idea.

“Dalton, spit it out now!” she ordered him, before he even got a chance to open his mouth and phrase his idea. She was growing impatient, fast. She was as eager to catch the person who had done this to Mac as he was. Jack knew Matty wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but bet on her that she sought revenge if someone harmed her team. You better don’t mess with Matty, that was what they used to say.

“Jalalabad, remember?” he told her what earned him a confused look and the unspoken order to give away more than just the name of a village.

“I mean, what if there was a plan behind this? What if Charlie and Mac were deliberately sent to that storage?” he explained his suspicion. Matty listened, but the look on her face told him that she still didn’t get what he was trying to tell her.

“My team and I dug up the terror cell that held Mac prisoner. We were ordered to clean out the place and believe me Matty, we weren’t gentle,” he told to her still remembering the shooting and the screams, the shouting and the bodies piling up. It had been a small group, nothing which could have caused a major impact on the terror stemming from the near middle east. But they have gotten what they sought for – revenge. They came to avenge one of their own and they did.

“You think this was an act of revenge?” Matty got the clue. He nodded. She mused about it, giving his idea a deep thought, but her expression told him that she wasn’t convinced.

“That’s too far-fetched. Jack, the cell had been a small one without any resources not to mention influence. Something like this needs a lot of planning not speaking of intel. How were they supposed to even know that Mac was still alive or would be sent back there?” Matty asked simple, but true questions. Notwithstanding that, Jack couldn’t shake off the idea that Jalalabad was the solution to all of this.

“I know Matty, but believe me. Jalalabad, that’s where this came from,” he argued with her, but she shook her head.

“Jack, I need more. I want to believe your theory, because nobody wants the person who’s responsible for what happened to Mac more than I do. But this is too thin. I can’t argue sending a team down to Afghanistan on a mere suspicion and without hard evidence. We don’t even know what or who we are looking for,” she told him. Her eyes locked with his. She understood. Maybe she has had the same thought, but they were lacking evidence.

“Then we need to get the evidence. Let Riley dig something up. I’m sure she’ll find something solid we can work with,” he told her. She nodded.

“I will and maybe we can talk to Mac too,” she suggested. Hesitation swung with her words. Mac was still in a severe condition, too fragile. Asking him about Jalalabad could use up the little strength he had left. He was still too weak. But there was no other way if they wanted to find and catch who was responsible for this.

“I’ll give it a try,” Jack said. Jack was aware that he might be the last person Mac wanted to see, but Jalalabad was their story. It probably was one of the symptoms which caused the rip through their relationship. Somehow they had forgotten how to talk to each other. They had to learn it from new again. They’ve been putting up with too much without giving themselves a chance to heal. They had to start to remedy the wounds in their relationship. Jack had no clue how to do this, but he would initiate the healing process and it would start with Jalalabad.

“Please, be gentle,” Matty warned him. He didn’t need that warning. He knew how delicate the situation was. True, he wasn’t very sensitive. He was no softy. He prided himself with that fact. But that was the past, because it was his other life – his life before Mac. It was Mac, who made Jack realise that empathy wasn’t a sign for weakness. This was what you needed if you wanted to help. It was what you needed if you wanted to have stable relationships with a girlfriend and your friends. It was what made him capable to pick up his relationship with Riley. It was what kept him from turning into a cruel killer. It made him think twice before he planted a lethal bullet in one of the bad guys and that was what helped him to fall asleep at night, because it held the dark thoughts at bay and made his conscience a little more bearable.

He went to Mac’s room. He braced himself. After Mac’s last reaction, who knew what would come this time? But Matty was right. He had to stay strong. He had to, because Mac couldn’t. He opened the door. Mac was asleep and totally still. It was to be expected. The infection was still raging in his body. It had become the major concern. Not the burns, the shrapnel or the blood loss. It was the infection, which Mac was incapable of battling.

“Hey hoss, I know you’re tired, but do you think we could have a short chat?” Jack approached Mac, gently resting a hand on the kid’s shoulder. He felt the heat radiating from Mac’s body through the thin fabric of the hospital gown. He felt bad for having to wake him, but this conversation was past overdue. Added to that, they had to find that sicko, who planted those IEDs before he killed even more soldiers.

Jack watched how Mac slowly came to. When he opened his eyes, they fell directly on Jack. Jack saw Mac’s barricades being raised the second he realised it was Jack, who has woken him. It pained Jack. He used to be one of the few people around whom Mac let his guard down, if not entirely than at least enough to give Jack a glimpse of the person that was hiding behind those thick walls.

“Jack?” Mac asked. His voice was still weak. Mac got into a more upright rather sitting position and winced. Jack shouldn’t been doing this to his kid.

“Yep, how you’re doing?” he asked while taking a seat in one of the chairs.

“What do you want?” Mac asked without answering Jack’s question, which in retrospect was stupid anyway. Mac looked like shit. There was no need to ask him how he felt.

“We need to talk,” Jack said. He took the fact that Mac didn’t throw him out and didn’t show any signs of a panic attack as win and leant forward his elbows digging into his thighs. Their eyes met. Mac’s were occupied with a kind of hostility he has never met Jack with before. He was alarmed to realise how badly their relationship was going.

“About what? And do we have to now?” Mac asked obviously unnerved by Jack’s presence or the question or his overall situation. Jack couldn’t tell.

“Jalalabad,” Jack replied and waited for Mac’s reaction which was unexpected calm as if he was taking in some random fact. There was no shock about the sudden mentioning of Jalalabad, but sheer acceptance. Probably Mac had expected that one day, Jalalabad would be a topic and maybe he had used the time since then to prepare for that. Maybe he didn’t want to give how much it hurt him.

“We think that, what happened to you and Charlie might be linked to what happened in Jalalabad. Some act of revenge,” Jack explained and waited for Mac to say something. But he didn’t. He stayed mute. Was this an attempt to hide what Jack had just come to know: that Mac remembered what happened, but never talked about it to Jack?

“And what do you expect me to do?” Mac asked. Jack thought he was seeing denial in Mac’s face, but wasn’t convinced. Mac wasn’t known for that. He was straight forward. But then again, three days in terrorists’ hands, denial was one of the coping strategies to choose from. Even if it wasn’t the recommended one, it was an effective one.

“Tell me what happened in Jalalabad,” Jack replied nonchalant. He would play along if that was what Mac wanted. There was no reaction on Mac’s face.

“You know what happened. You’ve been there, too,” Mac replied not picking up the fact that he fooled everyone into believing that he couldn’t remember Jalalabad. Jack grew agitated. The kid’s been lying to everyone and now pretended as if nothing happened.

“Yeah, but I’ve been one of the lucky ones exciting the building we were trapped in,” Jack tried to mute Mac. That strike hit its aim. Mac remained silent. He was thinking. Jack nearly could hear the gearwheels going around in his head.

“I think that maybe one of those guys that caught you is out there for revenge, but I need evidence. I need you to tell me what happened. We need to stop these sickos from planting more IEDs and killing our comrades,” Jack explained. He felt bad for putting Mac under such a stress – a stress Mac obviously wasn’t strong enough to withstand. He’s been hiding the story for too long and now it was about to destroy him. Nobody knew whether Mac would make it, but if he didn’t, Jack wanted to find the person responsible for it and let him answer for what he had done. He’d do the same as in Jalalabad if necessary.

Mac stared at him. It was a cold stare and his eyes once again screamed betrayal. Jack sensed that Mac wished to let it rest, to not dig up this special part of his past. But Jack couldn’t let him retreat. Whatever happened between them, he was content that it rooted in Jalalabad. It might not be the epicentre, but it was one brick - part in one huge misunderstanding in their relationship. Jack knew that they wouldn’t be able to overcome what has gotten between them at once, but only step by step – brick by brick.

“Mac, I think it’s time to talk about it, now,” Jack said. Mac didn’t react, but kept staring at him. He was weighing his options. He was drawing up a plan. But he didn’t say a word. Jack watched Mac’s jaw clench – a sign that he was debating as to whether to stay silent about Jalalabad or start talking.

“Mac, I know how hard it is to dig up such stories. I know you wish to bury it forever, but not like this. Not now, so tell me. What happened those four and a half days, before you came back to the base?” Jack went on pressuring Mac into talking. He saw Mac’s body tremble. He was tense – awfully tense.


	36. What happened in Jalalabad

_He crouched behind empty boxes to protect himself at least from the most severe effects of the blast. He set off the explosives at the back entrance of the building. The detonation would get the one or other terrorist, but he also knew it wouldn’t fend off all of them. The fuse was short – too short. He had to decide between duck and cover or die running. He opted for the former, well aware that this would only prolong his suffering. The chances of escaping the terrorist were slim._

_He’s never been as scared in his life than then. He would never forget how he wished it would be over quickly. Five men stormed the building and spotted Mac who ducked in cover. He tried to fight them. There was still some instinct in him, which told him not to make it too easy for them. It was paradox. On the one hand, he wished for a quick painless death, whilst on the other hand he fought against it tooth and nail, well aware that this would make things worse. He struggled against the men’s grip. A blow to his head knocked him out._

_When he came to, the first thing which he realised was an awfully pounding headache. He felt nauseous and wished he could go back to the deep blackness he was awaking from. He didn’t have much luck. His senses one by one started to kick in. He smelled damp mould and felt cold and wet concrete underneath him. If the situation he was caught in hadn’t been so severe, he would’ve been grateful for the change from hot dry sand to cool and wet. When he finally opened his eyes he saw that he was kept in a dark cell. There was a small barred window shedding some light into it. He looked around, instinctively looking for something he could use to make an escape with, but there was nothing. He was alone and on his own. His heart rate sped up. What did they want from him? Or did they actually want anything else, but make an example?_

_He slowly got up to his feet. His hands were tied painfully behind his back. He was trapped. He couldn’t fight off whatever was there about to come. His breath started to go ragged and sped up. It was a developing panic attack. Being held prisoner by terrorists indeed had been one scenario in his decision making process, but he hadn’t been able to grasp its true meaning_ _. Now he was faced with it and he was scared. So damn scared. He stood there waiting and listening. There would be no rescue for him. They probably thought he died in the explosion. It was him and the terrorists. When would they come for him? Would they come for him at all? His body was all tensed up anticipating the worst._

_Then finally what felt like an eternity he heard footsteps approaching the cell he was held in. The bad premonition was tearing him apart. He wanted it to be over – soon. The door slammed open. It was three of them. They were screaming at him in Farsi. He understood enough to know this was no good. One of the men strode towards him slapping his face hard, which aggravated his headache and Mac had trouble to keep his stomach contents. The world was spinning so fast – too fast. He tried to focus on his breathing. It was out of control. He was close to hyperventilating. It took all he had to force himself to calm down. If they saw how scared he was, they would think of him as easy prey. One of the men screamed at him spattering salvia on Mac’s face. He was angry. His dark slanted and narrow eyes burnt with fury. Then a fist slammed into his cheek sending him tumbling to the floor. It was a hard landing. Because his hands were tied together behind his back he couldn’t outbalance or even slow down the fall. With a heavy thud, his body connected with the hard, cold concrete. A likewise heavy pain drove through him, but he didn’t make a sound. He was prolonging his life, but also his suffering, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wasn’t capable of begging for mercy. He couldn’t get himself to plead for a quick painless end. This wasn’t his nature._

_The man who sent Mac to the floor bent down to him their noses nearly touching. He could smell the scent of strong tobacco on his breath. This face, the furious, slanted and narrow eyes would hunt Mac in his worst nightmares even years later._

_“When I’m done with you, you’ll scream for your momma begging her to make it stop,” he whispered into his ear. There was only a little accent indicating that the man had been abroad for a while. The man then pulled out a knife and Mac thought now it was over and this was it, when the knife was pressed against his throat which was awfully exposed by one man pulling Mac’s head back by his hair. He felt the tip of the knife digging into his skin drawing blood. Mac closed his eyes and slowed down his breath. Eventually he managed to calm down. He was ready and waiting. He didn’t expect another blow which came to his head and send him back into darkness._

_When he came to again, it was even darker in the cell. A glance out of the window told him that it was evening or night. A shiver ran through his body. It was when he realised that his torso was bare. It didn’t make sense until three men would come back for him. Electrocution apparently didn’t make much fun if the power of the electricity was levelled down by some fabric being between the skin and the device. They placed it on his chest above his heart. The shock waves ran through his body, which in response cramped so hard that he couldn’t take a breath. It hurt. He clenched his jaw. Surly his teeth would break under the pressure. He felt his heart skipping a beat and then another one. He was exhausted when the shock waves subsided with his breaths going fast has if after a long fast run. They didn’t give him much time to recover though. His muscles burnt from the cramping. It felt as if they were about to burst. Mac waited for the shock waves to subside, but they didn’t. Black spots danced in front of his eyes as an effect of the lack of oxygen. They stopped before Mac lost consciousness. He didn’t know what they wanted. They made no demands. They didn’t talk to him. They just came and tortured him. Again they didn’t give him much time to recover. This time though the shock waves felt stronger. His muscles cramped with tension that it seemed to squeeze his bones. It hurt like hell. He was fighting for oxygen, but he couldn’t get any. Then suddenly a sharp pain exploded in his chest. His heart started cramping, too – at least that was what it felt like. He couldn’t think straight anymore. The pain was clouding his brain. This time they didn’t stop before he passed out and he welcomed the soothing embrace of blackness._

_He was staring at the window. He would fit through it. He just needed to remove the rusty bars which shouldn’t be much of a problem and then smash the window. He felt his Swiss army knife in the pockets of his cargo pants. They hadn’t searched him then. They were no pros. The only obstacle between him and his escape were his hands being tied behind his back. He couldn't reach for his knife in his pocket. He searched the cell for something sharp. He noticed a column from which the concrete chipped off leaving a sharp edge. He started to move towards that column. His body was sore all over from the muscle cramping. He swallowed down the pain. He wouldn’t make it out of the cell if he gave in into the weakness which spreaded through his body._

_He started rubbing his ties against the sharp concrete. A hiss escaped his lips now and then when he slipped and instead of the ties his hands or wrists rubbed against the concrete. He didn’t manage to cut through his ties when the men came back for him. They manhandled him onto his feet and dragged him to another room. Mac saw his chances for escape evaporate the very second he was thrown into a windowless cell. There was a table in the middle of it, a bucket and a water tank. No, no, no, was all he could think of. He hated the very person inventing the methods of water boarding. He truly did from the very bottom of his heart. He tried to fight the grip of the three men when they hurled him onto the table grabbing him by his wrists and ankles. He fought against their grip which in response only tightened. He shook his head out of another man's grip when they tried to stretch his neck over the edge of the table. He still fought them when they placed a filthy well used cloth over his nose and mouth. He still could hear their laughter, when they emptied the bucket of cold dirty water over his face. His body instinctively fought against the restraining hands holding him in place. His lungs burnt from the lack oy oxygen. His muscles burnt from his fight. He lost track of time. They were emptying one bucket over his head after another, giving him only seconds to catch a breath. He felt the water entering his lungs. He coughed as reflex, but it didn’t help. He only breathed in more water into his lungs._

_Then they stopped and the face of their leader appeared above him with a dirty grin plastered over his face, his slanted, narrow eyes filled with something like joy._

_“Don’t take this personally. I only want you to feel how my brothers and sisters feel, when they are illegally deprived of their freedoms and kept in your terror camp in Guantanamo and where else. Maybe it helps initiating a new thinking process,” the man said. Mac didn’t understand. His head was pounding, not only from the hits but also from lack of oxygen. He had trouble thinking, which was dangerous. He was losing his ability of survival and he really wanted to survive._

_He was relieved to be man-handled back into the cell they were holding him in. He could keep up his plans of escaping then. He only needed some time to rest and catch a few more breaths. Then he went back to work on the ties._

_Unfortunately they found out that he had been messing with those before he could make a quick exit. The three men came back and while hurling him onto his feet they saw his attempts of cutting the ties. That got them very angry, but they didn’t shoot him, what from his point of view would’ve been the only logical consequence to his attempt to escape. The first punch hit his stomach forcing all air out of his lungs. He doubled over, his arm in a reflex holding the sore spot on his abdomen. The other man took Mac by his hair forcing him to look him into the eyes, before he brought his knee up colliding it with Mac’s nose. He felt how the nose broke and saw the blood flowing from it like water after the dam burst. It started to swell shut. It was difficult yet again for him to breathe. A kick into the back of his legs sent him crashing down hard onto the concrete floor. He landed unbalanced on the knees. A kick into his side caused him to fall onto the other one. He saw dark furious eyes towering above him. He saw the heavy boots and he saw a leg being lifted. Mac anticipated what was going to happen next. He tried to turn onto his stomach, but didn’t manage in time. The heavy boot stomped onto his ribcage. He heard the loud crack. A searing pain ripped through his chest. This time he couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. Black spots were dancing in front of his eyes. His stomach reacted to the shock with its own agenda and Mac threw up which caused only more pain. He couldn’t move. And then there was this laughter. They were laughing. The man crouched down next to him. His dark slanted and narrow eyes fixed on Mac, who’s never felt as helpless and abandoned before. And that was saying something in Mac’s case, since he never got the opportunity to indulge in relying on someone else let alone in someone who would start looking for him when he went missing. He might have forgotten about Bozer in that very moment, when he thought that. In fact, he did have a bad conscience back then, because Bozer wasn’t supposed to put up with him – wasn’t supposed to care that much, because Mac knew how much he hurt his friend when he decided to join the forces and was then deployed to Afghanistan. It felt wrong to first hurt him and then accept the comfort he offered. But maybe he wouldn’t have to worry about that anyway, because the man’s gaze screamed death at him._

_“I’ll break you,” he whispered into Mac’s ear. He wouldn’t, Mac decided. He was even more determined to make an escape, because he had to talk to Bozer and tell him that he was sorry for what he did to him._

_He had luck. They forgot to renew the ties. It took him awfully long to eventually cut through them, but he managed.He was hyper focused blending out the pain he was in. After cutting the ties, he focused on the next task at hand and started working on the rusty bars in front of the window. He lost track of time. He couldn’t tell how long it took him, but in retrospect it couldn’t have been long. He smashed the window. Every move hurt. His ribs protested. He could barely breathe through his nose. Only willpower made him move and jump up dragging his body through the window. He felt the sharp sting of a glass shard cutting through the skin of his hip. He didn’t care. He only wanted to escape and he did._

_When he was outside_ _, he stumbled to his feet. Where now? He had to get back to the base. He didn’t know where he was, but the position of the sun told him how late it was and in which direction to go. He had been lucky that nobody saw his escape, since he forgot all about being secretive and precautious. He was driven by the mere will to survive. He took turns walking and crawling through the desert. The sun burnt his skin at day. At night he felt like freezing to death. His body was protesting. He was sore all over. The heat was beating down on him like heavy and hot tempered punches. The chills of the night aggravated the soreness in his muscles. The thought of lying down in the send and just to close his eyes for a few minutes became very tempting, but he knew he wouldn’t wake up again. So he went or crawled on. He’s never been happier to see a Humvee in his life._


	37. Promise of venegeance

Mac felt awfully exhausted. It took all his strength not to fall apart in front of Jack while telling him. But Jack had asked for the truth and Mac gave it to him. He wished he'd never have to remember those days again, but now he had. He felt sick. When he said that he’s never been as scared in his life then, it was true. Also true was that he’s never felt as lonely as when he was kept in that cell without prospect of someone coming to his rescue. It took Mac all he had to keep the tears which pricked in his eyes at bay. He was wasting his energy over this, he knew that. But he couldn’t let Jack see the tears and the terror he still felt when the memories forced their way back into his mind. He had to keep his guard up, no matter what.

“You never talked to me,” Jack whispered and felt sick. Jack fought every instinct that told him to run from the room when Mac finally told him what he had endured during those four and a half days. And he – Jack – hadn’t been there to back Mac up. His kid has been all alone and that was even worse than the pain Mac must’ve suffered.

“I told everyone that I couldn’t remember what happened. Of course, I didn’t talk about it,” Mac replied. Mac looked at Jack. What he saw was sadness and horror. Jack’s reaction was sincere and any other time, before their fallout, Mac would’ve known it, but now he was confused and didn’t know what to believe anymore. Usually, he would’ve longed for Jack’s comfort, but now he rejected it. He wanted to withdraw into himself.

“But why, Mac? Why did you do it?” Jack asked still incapable of grasping what Mac had just told him.

“They wanted to nail you. No matter what I'd said, it would’ve given them a damn reason to just do that and that didn’t seem fair. The circumstances…were fucked up. No matter what, you only could make a wrong decision. Waiting behind that wall, waiting for back up would’ve gotten us killed as well,” Mac explained his reasoning. It was true. He didn’t like Jack much back then, but he also couldn’t stand unfairness and that would’ve been utterly unfair. Nailing someone for a hopeless situation was nothing Mac could’ve supported.

“But why did you never talk to me?” Jack didn’t understand why Mac has never brought up that topic. There have been enough occasions. Why did he keep it to himself for that long? Why didn’t he allow Jack to carry at least a little bit of that baggage, too, to make it easier for him to bear?

“Jack, if they had found out I’ve been lying, they would’ve nailed me, too,” Mac explained to Jack. Keeping it by himself had been the best idea from his point of view.

“But back stateside, you could’ve told me, but you didn’t,” Jack replied. Did Mac have that little trust in him that he missed the courage to talk to him? Why didn’t Jack insist on Mac talking about it? Why had he settled down in the comfortable, but false belief that Mac didn’t remember, while he witnessed him having nightmares?

“I…just wanted to forget about it,” Mac replied hating the pleading tone of his voice. He wished Jack would just let the topic rest. Mac felt his eyes on him. He was debating as to whether to let it slide or not. Mac wished he would. He was tired, so awfully tired.

Jack eyed Mac carefully. His instincts were screaming at him. He wanted to pull the kid into a massive bear-hug, he wanted to comfort him, but Mac’s physical posture screamed at him to back off. It pained him to see that. Jack looked at Mac. He looked exhausted. He was so awfully fragile that Jack feared he might crumble in front of him. He sighed. There was no need to inflict even more pain to the kid as he had already done. He was about to get up from his seat when he saw a photo lying on the floor. He picked it up and looked at it. A man with narrow and slanted eyes stared at him.

“Where does this come from?” Jack asked Mac. His hackles raised after a closer look at the picture and remembering what Mac just told him.

“My father’s been here, asking about what happened. Asked whether I knew that guy,” Mac replied having forgotten about the photo Jack now handed to him. He saw those narrow and slanted eyes. But that couldn’t be. The man was too young. His heart started pounding hard against his chest. That couldn’t be possible.

Jack saw how Mac’s hands started trembling at the sight of the picture which dropped out of his hands. He saw Mac's chest heave with fast and ragged breaths. There was another panic attack welling up. Every fibre in his body screamed at him to step in to hold his kid, while his kid’s body screamed at him to back off and stay put. He was torn between acting according to his instincts and respecting his kid’s wish. But fuck off, he eventually thought. Kids rarely knew what was good for them or what they really needed. With that last thought he stepped forward reaching out a strong hand to Mac cupping the back of his head while bending down, their foreheads meeting – touching.

“It’s okay Mac. We’ll get him,” Jack whispered in an attempt to comfort Mac.

Usually Mac would’ve given into the touch, letting Jack comfort him, but he couldn’t this time. He had lost his ability to let his guard down around Jack and all he wished for now was that Jack would let go off of him. His body screamed to push Jack away, but Mac couldn’t. He didn’t have the strength to fight Jack. He felt Jack peck the top of his head and he wanted to scream at him to leave him alone, but the words drowned in his throat. He lacked the necessary energy to say them out loud.

Jack felt Mac’s body tense up under his touch and he knew he was crossing a line pecking the top of the kid’s head, but as Matty said, he was even more stubborn than Mac. No matter how hard Mac tried to push him away he would stay. The harder his kid pushed the closer he would be. He was determined to get his kid back. He was determined to repair their bond. He wouldn’t give up. Mac might not be in a state to fight for their relationship, but he was. He would fight for the two of them. He had to. He once had made a promise to this kid and he would hold it. He might have slipped up. He might have made a mistake, but he wouldn’t let the kid withdraw from him.

“I promise you, I’ll hunt this guy down and he’ll regret what he did,” Jack made a promised and he was adamant to keep it.


	38. Ashes

When Jack left, Mac was exhausted. He felt how he started to crumble into himself together with his walls, which finally gave way. There was nothing he had left to keep them up. The glue which held him together although of all those cracks was used up. It didn’t work anymore. He couldn’t hold up his defences any longer. He was done. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. There was nothing left of him worthwhile saving. He couldn’t even muster up the strength to cry all those tears which have been waiting for their release for so long – for years. He just closed his eyes and as in Jalalabad, he hoped it would be over soon – that it would be quick and painless.


	39. Go into action

Jack stormed into the war room. He didn’t knock let alone wait for permission to enter. This here was a sensitive situation which needed to be solved – the sooner the better.

“Dalton?” Matty asked him surprised when he marched into the room like a chief on a warpath.

“Matty, who is this and what does Oversight have to do with him?” Jack asked her straight away. He was tense. He smelled an attack. He smelled danger. They had to act fast. His instincts never betrayed him when the shit hit the fan and he simply knew that this was going to happen rather sooner than later.

“What is this about, Jack?” Matty asked him. She looked confused while her eyes darted back and forth between Jack and the picture in her hand. She has never seen that man on the photo before, but she also had no idea what Oversight had to do with it.

“Our theory about Jalalabad fits. This guy looks like one of those who kidnapped Mac,” Jack explained to her.

“How do you know that?” she asked him still processing what went on and where the urgency in Jack’s voice stemmed from.

“Mac told me about Jalalabad and he saw this photo. Apparently, Oversight showed it to him earlier and then left it there,” Jack told her and he saw how it got Matty thinking. He could hear her thoughts. A plan was forming and then there would finally be something he could do – something he could do for Mac. If he wasn’t able to comfort him and help him heal, he at least could take revenge for what they had done to him. And he would. Just like in Jalalabad if he had to.

“But Jack, how? You said yourself, you didn’t make any prisoners. You cleared out that terrorist cell and nobody survived,” Matty asked him developing a theory. She didn’t like it at all that Oversight once again was involved, because it meant trouble. Trouble, because dealing with Oversight meant acting upon factoids. He never spilled the beans, always kept others in the dark unless his plan asked for the truth, which was rarely the case.

“Vengeance? Some relative? I don’t know, but maybe it is time to talk to Oversight, because if he has this photo, he knows more,” Jack went on and Matty nodded. She took the photo from Jack’s hands and was about to leave the war room.

“Where are you going?” Jack asked her.

“I want to talk to Oversight. You stay put. There’ll be work to do. Call Riley. I want her to stay with Mac. If you’re right Dalton, we might have a sensitive situation here and I want to clear it as soon as possible, because if this guy finds out that Mac’s still alive, he might give it another try,” she told him in her Mathilda Webber action mode. Jack nodded. He was relieved that she believed him, but it scared him too. Mac was in danger and in no condition to fend for himself.

When she was gone he called Riley and asked her to come and join him in the war room. He debated as to whether to call Bozer, too. But Matty hasn’t said anything about him and Jack wasn’t sure whether he could be of much help now. He probably would panic and fly into yet another fit of accusations against Jack and no matter how much Jack deserved them, this was not the right time to put up with them.

He didn’t have to wait long for Riley to appear. She’s already been there digging up evidence for his Jalalabad-theory.

“Jack, what’s going on? Is this about Mac? Is…he…,” she asked him, but was interrupted by Jack pulling her into a bear hug, which he needed. He had to prepare her and himself for what he anticipated was to come.

“Mac’s…well, nothing changed, but we probably found out who did that to him,” he explained to her. He saw the fear in her eyes, but there was determination too. The first lesson Riley had to learn, when she joined their little team, was that they stood together. If one member of their family was hurt the others would help and take revenge. It hadn’t been easy for her to understand because she grew up with a sense of deep rooted distrust. But she had learned it – quickly.

“Who?” Riley asked looking him into the eyes her facial expression telling him to don’t even try to shit her. He didn’t plan to. If he wanted her to protect Mac, he needed her to know what they were facing.

“Probably someone from Jalalabad, some sort of vengeance. Matty’s trying to find out about the identity of the guy,” he explained to her.

“And you’ll hunt him down?” she concluded. She knew him, knew that he was out for revenge.

“Yeah, but I need you to stay with Mac. Take care of him and make sure that he’s safe. If the guy finds out that Mac did survive, he might come here and finish his job,” Jack described his worst nightmare. He felt that once again he was too close to losing Mac. He couldn’t prevent the explosion. He couldn’t protect Mac from going kaboom. He couldn’t take his pain away and help him to recover, but he could stop the sicko that was after him.

“But…,” Riley wanted to say something. Her eyes screamed insecurity. She doubted herself. He couldn’t let her. He needed her to believe in herself – a full one hundred percent. He knew she could do it. She was capable of protecting Mac. He trusted her to do so.

“Riley, you can do it and I promise you, I’ll do my outmost to prevent anything from happening to you and Mac. You only need to hold down the fort until I’m back,” Jack said. He was carrying a double-burden. Only because he asked Riley to protect Mac, he didn’t ask her to protect him with her life. That was his job. It was his job to protect both to of them.

“Jack, I’m not sure…” she stammered and there it was again: the fear of making a mistake. He could see that she was thinking about the EMP. She was afraid of failing, but she wouldn’t. Jack would be there. Nobody would fail, not this time. He wouldn’t let anybody fail.

“Riley, don’t be scared. I know you can do it. Forget about this fucking EMP. Forget about what they’ve called you and told you in that fucking prison. You’re capable of everything you want to, and I trust you. I do,” he told her handing her his gun – his Glock. He hoped she wouldn’t need. He hoped she would only have to sit with Mac until he was back. He hoped she would only have to talk to Mac and make sure he wasn’t doing anything stupid. But he wanted her to be prepared for the worst. She took the weapon from his hands. Her hand was shaking when she extended it and wrapped her slender fingers around the cool iron. As her fingers clasped around the gun, her hand stopped shaking. Jack’s and her eyes locked. She understood. She trusted him. She believed what he said. But most importantly, she believed in herself that she could do it – that she could protect Mac, the brother she always longed for.

“And one thing, please make sure our genius doesn’t do anything stupid,” Jack told her which earned him a curious look.

“Stupid? Like what Jack? Mac’s in no condition to…,” she wanted to counter, but he stopped her.

“Stupid as in…dying,” he said swallowing hard on his words. He had seen Mac. He had seen the energy drain from his body while he was talking to him about Jalalabad. He was fading – fast. He needed Riley to make sure Mac wouldn’t lose it. Not yet when Jack knew what he had to do and was ready to do it.


	40. Time's running out

Matty was boiling with rage when she stood in front of James’ office door. She knew James had a tendency to play secret games. The whole man was one secret and she had come to accept it – tolerated it. But now his secrets were putting the life of one of her agents’ at stake and that crossed the line at which her tolerance and acceptance ended. If he endangered himself, she was fine with that, but he dragged his son into it and she wouldn’t let him get away with that one. He might be Oversight, but she had the connections and knew the right numbers to dial.

“Matty? What…” James opened the door and Matty stormed into his office, interrupting his flow of nonsense words.

“I want answers, James. And I want them now. So, who is this and what does this man have to do with what happened to your son in Afghanistan,” she demanded in her don’t even try to shit me voice, while slamming the photo onto his desk. James stepped back and eyed her carefully. She saw how he raised his defences. He knew what this was about and he anticipated her reaction. They’ve been working together for a long time.

“Matty, what is this about?” James asker her, but she didn’t buy his innocence – not now. If Jack was right, and she feared he was, then they had a big problem. And when had Jack ever been wrong when it came to crucial situations? Jalalabad, indeed. But seriously, he had to choose between pest and cholera then. That was no real choice, but a bunch of wrong decisions to choose from. Jack only needed to accept the fact that sometimes, no matter what you did, it was wrong and that applied to the whole team. Jack simply needed to be a little less self-righteous at times. That was all which was to the story of Jalalabad.

“Tell me,” she demanded. She wasn’t in the mood for playing games. They might be wasting precious time with this.

“Matty…” he started with his plea, but Matty cut it off immediately.

“James, stop bull-shitting me. You know this man and I want to know who he is and how come you know him!” she said hoping he got her message.

“Alright, alright,” he declared defeat – too soon for Matty’s liking – and collapsed into one of the plush arm chairs in his office. Suddenly he looked awfully old and worn and Matty started to feel a little sorry for that man, but immediately omitted that feeling. There was nothing to feel sorry for. James MacGyver was a grown man, who made decisions and had to accept that he was taken accountable for them as well.

“This is Ahmed Hallali,” he started to explain. He took the picture into his hands and stared at it as if he could work some sort of magic out of it. Matty didn’t understand, but she felt regret radiating from the man whom she now sat across from.

“He was on my team when I went for Walsh. I recruited him – him and his brother Khalid,” he said. He was musing about his words. Matty could see how he was debating as to whether to enter yet another dark corner of his conscience.

“I trained them, especially in the use of explosives. I taught them as much as I could. They were good men, loyal and eager to learn,” he went on and it dawned to Matty that this was yet another story about a wrong decision and poor knowledge of human nature. She actually didn’t want to hear it, she thought. But she had to listen to it.

“But the hunt for Walsh turned out to be a disaster. I lost three men and even after two years I didn’t catch him. You know the story,” he told her and she knew the Walsh-debacle very well. She had to evaluate the mission and decide whether it was the final nail to the coffin of James’ career. She decided it wasn’t. Walsh was a mastermind. There had been a reason for James and Jonah being paired with each other. It was the same as with Jack and Mac. Jonah was smart enough to understand James MacGyver, to read him.

“Well, Ahmed and Khalid quit and went back to Afghanistan. The mission had shaken them deeply and they decided they weren’t fit for this job any longer. I didn’t blame them. I’ve been thinking about quitting myself after this mission,” he told her. James MacGyver experiencing self-doubts and freely talking about it? This man really must be at his wits ends.

“Only years later I found out that they associated with the Taliban and their fight against the occupying forces of the US,” he went on and Matty started to understand where he was going to with this. Jack had been right from the beginning.

“2015 Khalid was killed in Jalalabad by US forces which had the mission to clear out the terrorist cell Ahmed and Khalid belonged to,” James said and looked into her eyes. She inhaled sharply.

“It was the same cell, which kidnapped Angus and it was the very cell Jack and his team took down, leaving no survivors,” James closed his story.

“And now Ahmed is out there seeking revenge and all he can think of is taking it out on Mac,” Matty concluded. She felt how her body grew tense. She had to act – Jack had to act. Mac wasn’t safe as long as this man was out there on his hunt.

“James, then Mac is in severe danger,” she told him.

“I know. Why do you think did I risk his transport to the Phoenix? Because this here is the safest place for him to be,” he told her one part of the story while holding back the other. There was more to this. It always was when it concerned Walsh – James nemesis.

“Why didn’t you talk to me? I could’ve helped you,” she asked him. She didn’t understand this man.

“I…don’t know. I…” James was at a loss, there was nothing left to say.

“Alright, I call out IT and have Jill track down this guy. When we know where he is, I will have Jack and his team hunt him down. We need to act fast,” she said while dialling the number from Jill. They’ve wasted enough time – time which could cost Mac’s life. She was about to leave the room when James’ mobile went off. He looked at the display and his face lost all colour. She stopped in her tracks waiting for what was there yet to come. James put the mobile down and then looked at Matty, his face ashen. There was a tingling feeling in her gut which told her that there was no good news waiting.

“This was Dr. Caine. It’s Angus…his condition worsened,” he told her. She nodded begging that it wasn’t too late while wishing that this was nothing but a nightmare she would wake up from. Unfortunately life taught her that the real cruel and unbearable situations were never nightmares but life.

“Then let’s go,” she said and both rushed down to medical where Dr. Caine awaited them already.

“Doc, how is he? What happened?” James started to fire away his questions and for the first time Matty saw the worried father in him – not Oversight, not James, no agent or genius scientist, but a father.

“We’re dealing with a sepsis as result of the wound infection. This led to acute renal failure. The kidney function was already compromised so we’re dealing with a quick process here. We had to put him back on the ventilator,” he explained. She watched James. His body started trembling. She was afraid he’d collapse. She took his hand. She wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone in this and that she was there to fight at his side.

“Is there anything we can do?” she asked. Of course there was nothing meaningful she could do, but being a helpless bystander wasn’t her nature either.

“We do what we can. But for now we should try and make him as comfortable as possible, reduce his suffering,” after the words were spoken she felt how James started to crumble. His hand which was still in hers became lax and his posture – his whole demeanour – collapsed.

“Can I see him?” James asked, his voice being thin.

“I’m decidedly against it. I’m sorry to say, but after you prior visits I came to the conclusion that your presence is not good for your son. Mac’s in a very critical condition. He needs his strength now to fight the sepsis – if he actually wants to fight it at all,” the doctor said giving James the coup de grace. He turned to her when she got a message on her phone. It was Jill.

“But…,” James started an attempt of protest, but was cut off by the doctor.

“I’ll let you know when it’s time to say goodbye, but it’s not the time yet.” These words were hard to listen to, because they made real what they were all too afraid of. There was a real chance that Mac wouldn’t make it, but Matty couldn’t dwell on that thought.

“Thank you doctor. Since we do have a sensitive situation here, I’ll position a TAC team here in your medical facility. Please prepare for a lock down,” she told the doctor pushing her emotions aside. She wasn’t ready to lose Mac, but she was incapable to think about it. She had to push these thought aside. She needed to stay cool. She had a mission. And it was to protect Mac from some little stray terrorist. She had enough time to worry when they caught this man. Before that, she had to remain professional and collected. She owed it to him. She owed it to Mac, who always pushed his own well-being aside for them. She would do it for him, too.

“Okay, I’ll get everything arranged,” Dr. Caine said and then hurried off. James looked at her.

“Ahmed doesn’t even try to hide. Jill just texted me. He arrived at the airport three days ago,” she told James who stood there frozen. She took both of his hands in hers and positioned herself in front of him to look into his eyes.

“James, we’ll take care of Ahmed and when that is over, I want the full story,” she said and then turned around. She needed to prepare a TAC team.


	41. Nothing but an asset

She watched Mac – her brother – fading away. It tore her heart apart, because something told her that he wasn’t fighting anymore. He has given up. It was depressing. She nestled her head carefully against his upper arm ignoring the protests coming from her bach because of the unnatural angle she sat in. She had Jack’s Dallas Cowboys snuggie wrapped tightly around her. She hadn’t moved since she had come here and her body started freezing at the lack of movement. Her hands carefully traced down Mac’s arm that was still wrapped to protect the burns from germs and bacteria. Riley thought about how ironic it was. Mac’s body was already harassed by a sepsis and they did what? Trying to prevent any further infection? She didn’t understand, but hoped it was what helped her brother.

“You know, when this here is over, you could ask Matty for some time off. Maybe you could go on a vacation and travel around the world for a while,” she suggested, because no matter what, Jack was right when he said that Mac needed a break. He wasn’t Superman and everybody needed a break from time to time. And Mac deserved it.

“Or maybe you can take a sabbatical? You sure do have accumulated enough overtime,” she went on. She talked to him, because she wanted to let him know that someone was there – that she was there. She wanted to give him new perspectives, which didn’t include their work or the Phoenix. Maybe Mac was just tired of that – a hero being tired of being one.

“You could finish your degree. You always talked about going back to the MIT and finish what you started. Maybe now is the best time for doing it,” and then maybe you don’t have to do this job anymore, she concluded for herself. She really wished for Mac to find a new profession for him. She couldn’t stand the thought of Mac risking his life again and again for the sake of others. It didn’t sit right with her and maybe it was time for all of them to quit, because the fight between Mac and Jack only proved that they were losing what was really important – their family ties which was the glue keeping them together as one functioning whole.

She wanted to let her brother know that there was more in this world than their job and that he wasn’t responsible for all those bad guys that threatened to kill half of the earth’s population on an everyday basis. It wasn’t his job to stop all of them and risk his life. He was valuable even without saving the world each day of the week. Maybe he just needed to understand that.

“I wouldn’t mind if you quit the job and decided to move on. It wouldn’t change anything, because family doesn’t care about what job you have or whether you have one at all. What matters is that you’re well and happy,” she said wishing that this was what counted for Mac too. Unfortunately she had witnessed way too often that other standards applied to Angus MacGyver, though. He was measured according to his performance. It was how he measured himself. It didn’t count that he was a good friend, a good listener, someone who was simply there when you needed support – either physical or emotional. The human being that was Angus MacGyver had vanished behind his performance and Jack’s outburst, the fight between him and Mac was only a sign that they accepted it, although they should fight it. They shouldn’t hit the same notch, but they did. They all forgot about Mac being just what they all were: a human being. And she was afraid that at some point they forgot all that they were just that. It scared her.

“Maybe, you should accept that you’re not a hero. You’re not responsible for all the evil in this world. You’re responsible for yourself and you should really start considering what is good for you,” she went on hoping that he heard her words and understood what she wanted to tell him. Her thread of thoughts was interrupted by a brunette woman entering the room.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t know that someone was here,” she said and was about to turn around and leave, but Riley stopped her.

“No, it’s okay,” she said sitting up in her chair stretching her limbs. When she took a closer look at the woman she recognised her.

“You’re Frankie, aren’t you?” Riley said rising from her chair to greet Mac’s friend from the MIT. She played an important role when it came to Mac’s stories about his life before the Phoenix and before the Army.

“Yeah, that’s me and I guess you’re Riley Davis? One of Mac’s colleagues?” she asked her warily. It amused Riley to find out that Mac must’ve talked to his friend about her. She never thought of herself to be important enough for being mentioned in tales about life. But then she was talking about Mac and for Mac everybody was important but himself. The women stood in front of each other. It felt awkward. In fact, Riley had never been sure whether Frankie was just a friend of Mac’s or whether she was already a little bit more. He’s been very secretive about this part when she asked him.

“Uhm…I’ll leave you then,” Riley said to break the atmosphere.

“Uh, no, please stay, I mean if it’s okay for you. I’d appreciate some company,” Frankie replied and Riley got the message. It was difficult to see Mac like this. The limbo he was in was nearly screaming directly into their faces.

“Bozer called and told me what happened,” she explained the reason for her visit. She walked around the bed and placed a hand on Mac’s shin. Riley noticed the gentle gesture and the gentle look in her eyes.

“I shouldn’t be surprised, shouldn’t I?” Frankie asked Mac and then turned towards Riley, who wasn’t sure what Frankie was talking about. She watched her sitting down in a chair opposite from her. Riley didn’t know what Bozer told Frankie and she also didn’t know what Frankie knew about Mac’s job.

“Always jumping to others’ help without even thinking about your own well-being. I really hoped that would change one day,” Frankies went on scolding Mac.

“So you met that annoying streak of his, too?” Riley replied mockingly. She wanted to lift the atmosphere a little, because she felt sorry for Frankie, who had nobody at her side to face the painful reality of Mac slowly slipping away.

“Oh yeah I did and after I shamelessly exploited it, I planned to talk to Mac about it. There were a lot of things I planned to talk about, but I never did,” she told Riley and she also understood what remained unsaid – that maybe Frankie would never get the opportunity to talk to Mac about it. There was regret audible in her voice and visible on her face. It was the same regret they all carried in their hearts.

“He saved my butt that time at MIT,” Frankie started talking while taking one of Mac’s hands into hers.

_The deadline for handing in her thesis expired in one week and she realised that she made a little, but fatal mistake. She had to repeat the entire experiment within one week. That was near to impossible at least without help. She was despaired. This thesis was supposed to be the foundation for her doctoral thesis. She’s already applied for a scholarship and only a day ago she received the letter that she won it. But it all didn’t matter if she didn’t manage to hand in her thesis in one week. Her whole work would be delayed for a year, because only then she could hand in her second attempt. But a year meant a world in science. This was a race. If someone published his or her work on a related topic earlier than she did, her work would be useless and she heard rumour that there was actually someone working on a similar experiment. She needed help – reliable assistance. The first person and the only person she trusted to be that reliable and loyal was Angus MacGyver. He had just started at MIT, but he was a bright guy. Several professors reached out for him, because they wanted to work with him – her ph. D. supervisor was one of them. She shouldn’t be surprised. The MIT attracted the brightest minds of the nation, if not even of the world. But after meeting Mac she knew that he was a little different from all those other geniuses the MIT hosted. He wasn’t playing his card of being a genius. He didn’t ask for anything not to speak about demanding anything. He didn’t talk about what they owed him, but what he owed to others. Already then it had been obvious that he thought of his talent as an asset he was obliged to use to the benefit of others. Already then he wanted to help._

_And he did help her, when she asked him. They worked easily together. Mac knew what he had to do. That made things a lot easier for her. She didn’t need to explain a lot to him and if she did, she only needed to explain it once. Then Mac would understand and work independently. They had great fun together. It was the first time she realised that working in a lab could be actual fun, if you shared the work with the right people. They would work through the night not getting much sleep, but Mac’s nature made her not to lose her optimism. No matter what obstacle occurred – a damaged measuring instrument, a missing substance – Mac always knew a way to solve that problem. He improvised. That was what he did then and that was what he did now._

_It was only a day after she handed in her thesis just in tome when she found out that Mac’s chemistry class was supposed to hand in a coursework only a few days later. She didn’t know that and Mac hadn’t talked to her about it. She felt bad. She suspected this being his first real coursework to be prepared under the conditions of an elite university. She remembered how she felt overwhelmed with her first coursework and she decided to talk to Mac and help him. She owed it to him. They weren’t only rivals at the MIT. You also needed allies and if you chose the right ones you could make good friends._

_She went to his dorm but received no answer upon knocking at the door. It wasn’t locked and when she carefully cracked the door open and peaked through it, she saw that Mac was fast asleep at his desk. She silently entered. The screen of his laptop displayed what he was working on. She read through the first few lines and was shocked. It was a jumble of words and incomprehensible. She carefully slipped the laptop from under Mac’s head and took a closer look. She clicked through the files open on the task bar. The initial shock subsided at the sight of the table and graphs, the number and figures. He’s done his work properly. The method was unobjectionable and the approach overly accurate, the calculations complex but comprehensible. The words, however, they were a mess. She debated as to whether to wake Mac and help him typing his coursework, but decided against it. Instead she sat down on his bed and started typing. This was the least she could do. It took her until the next morning to finish writing. She was absorbed by his topic and his conclusions. This was beyond one should expect from a first year student, but after working together with Mac it didn’t surprise her either. Suddenly her attention was drawn to Mac who had started mumbling in his sleep. There was not much she could make out. Words like “dad”, “no” and “I’m sorry” were audible. It made her heart squeeze painfully. She watched how his body tensed up and she set the laptop aside to place a hand between his shoulder blades. The words “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” were repeated again and again like an infinite loop._

_“Mac?” she asked gently. She wanted to wake but not startle him. She saw tears rolling down his cheek. It struck her to see him cry in his sleep. It worried her, because it spoke of deep rooted distress she would have never suspected to rest beneath Mac’s calm and rock solid demeanour._

_“Mac, c’mom. Wake up. You’ve still some work to do,” she said hoping that reminding him of his coursework would wake him up. It did the trick. He shot awake._

_“What? Shit…Frankie? How late is it? What are you doing here?” he asked her immediately in a confused not nearly awake state. She debated as to whether to talk to Mac about what she had witnessed, about the tears she had seen, but she never did. Mac needed to finish his coursework and then she forgot about it. When it came back to her mind she wasn’t sure whether her relationship with Mac allowed for such a grave conversation and when she finally mustered up all her courage to start that conversation he told her he was dropping out and joining the forces._

“Did he ever tell you why he dropped out and went to the Army?” Riley asked her after listening to a story which carried Mac’s trademark. Of course he would help Frankie. He probably didn’t even realise that it might be conflicting with his own obligations. He had probably been so engrossed in her project that he didn’t have the time to think about it.

“He told me that he made the decision after his grandfather called him to talk about an old army friend of his. He told me something about wanting to really help people, which we didn’t do while working and studying at the MIT,” she explained Riley. She thought about that answer, but wasn’t sure what to think of it.

“I think it was the wrong decision. He should’ve stayed and graduated. He could’ve helped people that way, too. It would've been different, but probably more fulfilling,” Frankie went on and Riley believed her. She understood what she meant.

“But how are you supposed to make a decision for yourself when all you hear is that your skills – that you – are an asset that is to be used for saving the world?” Riley asked subconsciously musing about Frankie's words.


	42. Too late?

“Ahmed is now on his way to the Phoenix. I’m following him. Any news on his friends?” Jack asked over comms. Riley found out that Ahmed wasn’t on his own. He’s had contact to at least four people of whom they suspected to be involved, too. Fortunately, they were able to identify them. Riley had sat up her work station next to Mac’s hospital bed and supported Jack’s hunt while watching Mac. The latter was the hardest part, because she witnessed Mac's condition deteriorating from hour to hour. A constant stream of doctors and nurses was busying in and out of the room. Every once in a while Riley would squeeze Mac’s hand to make sure that he was still there - to make him aware of her presence. He wasn’t alone and there would be someone keeping him from whatever stunt he was currently planning to pull.

“We’ve identified four men. They met yesterday and it looked like conspiracy. As Matty said before, Ahmed doesn’t even try to hide what he’s planning,” Riley replied. This fact scared her, because it meant that these men had nothing to lose and people who had nothing to lose were dangerous people.

“Are they already in the building?” Jack asked. The plan was to lure them into the Phoenix building, lock down and the catch them.

“Yes, Bozer checked the video footage. They’re on the first floor. We’re trying to silently lock down the second to the sixth floor so there won’t be much room for them to hide,” Riley went on. She was typing as fast as she could. She worked the Phoenix systems to make sure the lock down remained unnoticed by their intruders.

“Good. I’ll be there in five. I want full lock down the second I enter the building,” Jack commanded and Riley nodded not being aware that Jack couldn’t see her. Five minutes. That was damn long. Riley knew that in their current situation five minutes could mean the world. Hell, she wasn’t sure whether Mac did have these five minutes. She would do everything in her power to make him stay, but he was so fucking stubborn. They were now working too hard bearing all risks which came along with hasty plans and quick actions. But what if it was all for nothing? What if this Ahemd succeeded? Or even worse, what if they caught him before, but Mac died anyway? What if Mac decided that enough was enough notwithstanding their fight?

“Jack, hurry up. Mac needs you,” she whispered absentmindedly, but her words were heard on the other end anyway.

Jack’s heart broke at the softly whispered words. Though, he was still uncertain whether he was the person Mac – his kid – needed. Maybe he had to accept that he wasn’t the right one anymore. But who else was? Mac's father? Definitely not. Bozer was, because he loved Mac like a brother, but emotionally he wasn’t equipped for dragging the kid’s sorry ass back to life. He wasn’t stubborn enough and definitely not a person that sailed a collision course. He would do everything for Mac to keep the pain away. But Jack knew only too well that sometimes you had to hurt someone to help him and that was what Bozer could never do. No, maybe Bozer wasn’t the right person, because he loved Mac too much. Jack shook his head. He had to concentrate on the task at hand: nail Ahmed and his culprits. If he didn’t succeed here, he would leave Mac to even more danger.

He saw the Phoenix building nearing. When he entered the parking garage he sped up. His heart started racing.

“Jack, he’s in,” he heard Matty tell him. Now he had to hurry. He stopped the car with screeching tyres.

“How’s lock down going?” he asked hoping it was processed by now and Ahmed and his gang could not get in any further than the first floor.

“Still running,” Riley answered and he could hear the apology in her words. It was a tough task to get a silent lock down which didn’t alarm everybody in the building.

“Please tell me that at least the medical wing is locked down,” Jack asked the crucial question. If it had been on him, he would’ve limit lock down to the medical wing. For him it would’ve been an easy game to chase the guys through the building before putting them down for good. Unfortunately though, there were the scientists and civilians to take care of, too.

“Riley?” he asked after he didn’t get an answer, but still got nothing. His heart sank.

“The server crashed. It’s rebooting right now. I hope to fix it any second,” she apologized.

“No, don’t,” Jack suddenly concluded. He had changed his mind. He didn’t want the long chase anymore, but a quick end to the game. He had parked his car on the floor of the medical wing and would soon be there. He sprinted as fast as he could. His body was tense, all his senses on alert. He would definitely be there before Ahmed and his goons. And he would wait for them. He felt bad for using Mac as bait, but he knew he had the situation under control. He had to. Mac needed him rather sooner than later.

“Jack, I want them alive,” he heard Matty warning him over comms.

“Sorry Matty, I can’t promise that,” he replied. And he couldn’t. Jalalabad would be a good bedtime story when he was done with them. He felt the rage burning inside of him. That was good, because it made him cold-blooded and yielding – simply unscrupulous. He had changed – Mac changed him, Riley did. But this person was still inside of him and although he wished to never let it out of its box again, for Mac he would do that. There was nothing unethical if it at the end meant that he had saved Mac. And he would. He was determined to and he would keep this promise. You go kaboom, I go kaboom. If Mac went, he would go too.

He entered the medical wing and came to an abrupt halt.

“Alpha one-one to Alpha four-o what’s your status?” he asked his TAC team. He had to organise them now. He had a plan and he was content that it would relief the itch he was feeling.

“Exit and entrances of the first floor secured. Nobody comes in and nobody out. Waiting for further orders,” what the reply coming over the comms.

“Let Ahmed through to the medical wing and take down the others,” Jack replied.

“Jack!” Matty exclaimed, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t need this job anymore if something happened to Mac. There was nothing left to lose for him.

“Copy,” came the reply as if Matty didn’t exist. And she didn’t. This was his team. They’ve trained together. They’ve suffered and crawled through blood and mud together. They were loyal men. And they knew what was at stake – who was at stake.

Jack hushed the nurses from the reception and ordered them to find somewhere safe to hide. Then he sought cover behind the desk gun at the ready. He felt how the tension increased. It crawled from his feet up over his torso to his neck. Every fibre in his body was on alert. Then he heard commotion. His team has sprung to action. The noise got louder. It was nearing him. Then he heard it:

“Alpha-four-o to Alpha one-one, two down and three are on their way to the medical wing,” words telling him that his plan didn’t work out. Jack hissed at the realisation.

“Let them through, I’m waiting,” Jack whispered and slowly peaked to the entrance from the corner of the reception. Then the door burst open.

Riley heard the noise. She didn’t like the plan, but it was her fault. She didn’t manage to lock down the medical wing in time. But she trusted Jack. He knew what he was doing. Nevertheless, after squeezing Mac’s hand she took the gun into hers. She needed to be prepared. She heard the foot stomps, then gun fire and screams. They were there and it wasn’t over. There were foot steps coming closer – fast. She got up from her chair now positioning herself at the right corner of the foot of the bed. Gun drawn she aimed for the door, ready to pull the trigger. She was ready. She could do that. She would do that for Mac. Then the door burst open and a dark haired man with slanted and narrow eyes rushed in followed by Jack, who screamed at him to stop. The man didn’t. His eyes darted erratically between Mac and her. Then he pointed his gun at Mac.

“I won’t do that,” Riley warned him her gun pointing at his chest where the heart was supposed to be.

“And you wanna stop me?” he snarled his voice thick with an accent and laced with disgust only deep rooted hatred could produce.

“No, I will,” Jack replied. The situation was sensitive. One wrong move, a word pronounced wrongly could lead to an escalation. Jack focused on the man in front of him, not realising a man approaching from behind, who held a gun against Jack's temple. The cold metal sent warn signals through his body. He watched Riley’s eyes grow wide with fear. The plan didn’t work out. It felt like back in Jalalabad. He had to make a decision and he made one – again it was the wrong decision. And again it was Mac, who was going to pay for it. No, no, no, Jack thought to himself. He had to stop that. He had to think. But he ran out of options. He couldn’t save all lives. He couldn’t save Riley, Mac and himself. Not in this dilemma.

“You killed my brother, my family. It’s only fair when I take from you what you took from me,” the man said, now his gun darting back and forth between Mac and Riley. Riley’s heart raced. The situation turned out to a catastrophe. What was she supposed to do?

“Riles, shoot him,” Jack then ordered. She didn’t understand – couldn’t process the words he said. Was he kidding? If she shot Ahmed the man behind Jack would kill him.

“Do that and he’s dead,” Ahmed replied phrasing Riley’s thoughts. This was a lose-lose-situation. She could only lose and she was sure, no matter what she decided she could neither rescue Mac, nor Jack, nor herself. She looked at Jack her eyes pleading for him to have an idea – to have an alternative plan, but what she saw was regret. He didn’t have one. They were playing a losing game. She looked over at Mac wishing he could tell her what to do. He always knew a way out, but he wasn’t there anymore. Then, in the corner of her eyes, she saw a shadow flash by. Automatically her attention was drawn to the door anticipating yet another attacker.

Jack was focused on Ahmed. He noticed the shadow flash by, but he didn’t react to it. The millisecond his head registered what was happening he knew that this was his chance. He watched Ahmed turn his attention away from Mac and Riley towards the door where the shadow now stood.

“Look here, shithead!” the shadow screamed and Jack felt how the gun, which still rested at his temple, started to shift. Then he pulled the trigger.

Riley heard the gun shot and its echo. She watched how Ahmed slumped down to the floor. A red Bindi adorned his forehead, right in the middle. Then her eyes went over to Jack who turned his head to Bozer, who had started the diversionary manoeuvre. He looked a little pale and shocked.

“You okay Bozer?” Jack asked, but then followed Bozer’s gaze to the floor where the second attacker lay sprawled like a puppet with its strings cut. Jack frowned. He hadn’t seen a gun in Bozer’s hand. When he lifted his head into the direction from where the shot had come from, he saw Matty with her gun still pointed at Jack’s attacker. He felt the adrenaline rush though his system. He had trouble to realise that it was over and that they saved Mac. He wanted to say something, but his words were stopped by a loud shrilling noise – alarms were set off. Jack turned his attention back to Mac, seeing horror on Riley’s face.

“Jack! Do something!” she screamed at him. He was about to move but was pushed roughly aside by Dr. Caine and his team.

“You have to leave, now!” he hollered at them. Riley was pushed forcefully from the room. Her heart sank. They were too late. They couldn’t stop it. They weren’t enough anymore. They lost – they lost Mac.

“Jack!” was the only thing she could scream again and again when the tears ran down her cheeks and soaked Jack’s shirt when he wrapped his arms around her. He’s been too late. He failed. He failed Mac. He was there to protect his kid and now he was losing him. He was losing his kid. He watched over to where Bozer now sat slumped down, his arms wrapped around his legs which he had drawn to his chest – weeping. Jack’s eyes met Matty’s, who tried to calm down Bozer. Jack was too late. Ahemd won.


	43. Maybe this time

His head rested on Mac’s chest. The steady rise and fall and the swoosh of the vent lulled him to sleep. One hand of his held Mac’s, while his other arm was wrapped around Mac’s still body. It was two days now. Two days since Mac again tried to steal away from them. It was this time that Jack decided not to let his kid out of his sight. He had sworn to himself, to Riley and Bozer he’d watch over Mac to make sure that he stayed with them. He would put his foot down this time. Mac was stubborn? Well, he hasn’t met Jack at his best of stubbornness yet. He hadn’t left Mac since the second Doc Caine told them that it once again had been close, but that Mac was still with them, still in no good condition, but still alive. Jack would take that for now. He would discuss the rest with his kid later.

He was woken from his slumber by a nurse buzzing in. She gently shook him awake.

“Hey there,” she greeted him and placed a mug of lukewarm coffee in his hand. Judy took sympathy with him the very second Jack declared he would camp out at Mac’s side. She met him with understanding gestures and instructed her colleagues not to get between him and his kid. He was grateful for that. He wasn’t Mac’s father and actually had no right to the privileges established for relatives, who feared for the life of their own. But Mac was his and nobody could possibly deny that. 

He took the coffee and stretched his cramped muscles. His back was protesting, but he couldn’t care any less about his own pains when Mac was there fighting an even tougher fight. He wouldn’t give in. He would fight – if necessary for two.

“How’s our boy doing?” he asked Judy. She wore a smile and not the usual concerned expression. Jack tilted his head. Maybe for once there were good news.

“The doctor says we’re having reasons for mild optimism. Seems like we got the sepsis under control,” she informed him and he was glad it was her who provided that good news – real good news.

“That’s good, right?” he simply checked with her, since he didn’t understand any of the medical jumbo mumbo and was afraid to misinterpret something.

“That’s good,” she replied placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Anyway, the doctor will be here in twenty minutes for his round and then Lucinda will have to change bandages and what else. So you’ll have about an hour to get a shower and put on some clean clothes,” she told him wrinkling her nose in a mockingly gesture to indicate that he hasn’t left Mac a second the last two days and still wore the same cloths. Maybe she was right.

“I’ll go when the doctor comes,” he said. Judy nodded approvingly and then left him.

“So, don’t pull any stunts, while I’m away,” Jack said to Mac’s unconscious form. He didn’t like the idea of leaving, but he respected Mac’s privacy. He sat up a little straighter. There was something which needed to be said, now. His heart squeezed at the idea of how close he got to losing Mac – at how close he still was of losing him.

“Angus, I know that you’re tired and hurt, not only physically. But maybe you can just decide to let me bear some of the weight on your shoulders, too. You don’t have to do this all on your own and nobody expects you to. What I said to you was stupid. Nothing but words spoken in some sort of blind fury. I didn’t mean to cut the bond between us – I didn’t mean to abandon you. I could never do that – leave you alone, that is. It’s impossible. So maybe, you could just think about giving me a…what third or fourth or whatever chance and come back to me so I can make you understand what you mean to me?” he said the words stemming from the deepest of his heart and although he used to keep his emotions for himself, he now couldn’t. He could and should no longer hide from Mac what he was for him. Mac deserved to know that – needed to know it. After all, it was Jack’s fault, since he never told Mac what he really meant to him. Between a few beers and some stupid sayings, which were supposed to underline their friendship, Jack never mustered up the courage to tell him – to tell him that “kid” was not simply a nickname, but something he truly felt. Mac was his kid – his son. He loved him just like that. Witnessing him die twice had left his heart shredded to pieces. He was sure that he would never get rid of those nightmares. He would probably never really recover from that experience.

“Jack, how was the night?” Doc Caine dragged him out of his thoughts. It was that moment he realised that there were tears running down his cheek. He swiftly wiped them away. If Doc Caine had seen them, he did a good job of not letting it on.

“Short. I guess that’s the point where I’ll leave the two of you to your privacy,” Jack said and got up from his chair.

“Judy talked to you?” Doc Caine asked. He looked as tired as Jack felt and Jack hoped at one point he was capable of showing the gratefulness he felt for the doctor and for how he fought for Mac – unrelenting and unyielding. He was as determined as Jack to keep Mac in the world of the living and having him at his side made it easier for Jack, because there was someone he could share his responsibility with.

“She did, so maybe this time we’re lucky,” Jack replied. He still didn’t believe it, would only do so when Mac was finally back at home, but he let himself indulge in some hope.

“Maybe we are,” the Doc said and Jack noticed that he was holding back something. He debated as to whether it was wise to ask, but then dropped it. He didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to enjoy the glimpse of hope. He didn’t need it to be destroyed again.

With his heart carrying hope he left the medical wing for his home. He really needed a shower and maybe something to eat.


	44. Something holds on

He’s never been as tired as he’s been now. His body felt heavy, too heavy. Maybe gravitation increased or maybe he wasn’t on earth anymore? Maybe Jupiter? 24.79 m/s² versus 9.807 m/s². Maybe. Why was he thinking about that? He wanted to rest, but his brain wouldn’t stop pulling some nonsense information out of whatever box he had stored it once. Suddenly a picture of Friedrich Nietzsche popped up in his head and how he hugged old worn horses in the middle of a street. What was that supposed to mean? He wanted to shut off his brain, but he couldn’t. He had given up – given up his strength, his defences and himself, but something was holding on to him, whether he wanted to or not. Well, he couldn’t tell he fought whatever it was, but he didn’t support it either. He made his peace with everything. He was done and was ready to leave it behind, but something was stopping him. He was curious to know what it was, but somehow not ready yet to find out. It was odd, but at the same time comforting. He wasn’t scared, just awfully tired. He just wished his brain would eventually shut off and let him rest, but it didn’t. It told him that water hydraulics might be more environmental friendly and less costly than oil hydraulics, but the low viscosity was a problem. He didn’t comprehend why his head was telling him all this. He simply wanted to rest at least for a while.


	45. Rare Occasions

Matty watched how an exhausted doctor Caine slumped down in the chair in front of her with his legs stretched out.

“So, how’s my agent?” she asked him handing him a cup of coffee. Doctor Caine was new on the team of Phoenix medical, but he was good. They poached him from the Mayo Clinic in Rochester. He cost them a fortune, but she was glad about that decision, because he lived up to his reputation of not giving up on patients.

“Still alive,” was his reply and she heard the subtle undertone asking the dreaded question – how much longer?

“What are you not telling me?” she asked him directly. Doctor Caine sighed and gathered his limbs together to sit up properly in the chair in front of her.

“It’s like we’re forcing him to stay alive. He endures our efforts, but he’s not helping us. He stopped fighting and that’s what’s making it so exhausting,” the doctor explained to her. She had feared it would be something like this, but hoped that it wasn’t. However, at some point, actually when she offered Mac the job in Afghanistan, she’s seen something she didn’t like – indifference.

“Director Webber, with all due respect, but it seems like Mr. MacGyver is somehow finished with life,” the doctor said what nobody wanted to hear, but everybody feared. And though, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. There has happened so much – too much. Mac has had to put up with so much – emotionally and physically – and the people that were supposed to be his family by blood were incapable of providing the support he needed. The argument with Jack, his harsh words must have felt for Mac like the last strings which kept him from falling were cut, too. He was in free fall without support and without safety net.

“Make sure Dalton can stay with him,” she said. All hopes rested on him. It was unfair to put that burden upon his shoulders, but she had no other remedy than that. And if the doctor was right and if Mac really was about to give up, it was Jack who had the strength to carry Mac along the rest of the way - with or against his will.

After a few seconds of silence she got up. She still had a bone to pick with someone else, now after the Ahmed debacle was over. They didn’t get them alive as she had wished and James had been furious about it. If you kill, you had to give them a good reason for why. But Matty didn’t regret it and she understood Dalton’s reasoning. She’s written and signed the report, which stated that there were no other options. James didn’t like it and told her that only because Mac was involved the set of rules applying for everyone couldn’t be overridden. She didn’t give a damn, because since when did James play according to the rules when it was about his son? If he only this one time talked to her from the very beginning, they might have had a chance to get Ahemd alive. But he didn’t and he didn’t learn from his mistake and went on playing his secret games, which not only endangered his son, but also her agents and the Phoenix Foundation. She sighed. Nothing had changed. James MacGyver was still the same unpredictable man he had been when she sent him on the hunt after Walsh. She had to get behind the mastermind that James MacGyver was. She smelled failure. James MacGyver was a smart man – a genius just like his son. It was impossible to know what went on in his brain, let alone to predict his actions or plans.

James was already awaiting her in the war room. He looked grim. The second she entered the room, he got up and slammed the file – yesterday’s file – on the small table in the middle of the room.

“You do know that we can get into serious trouble with this, do you?” he asked her sternly. She couldn’t deny that she didn’t care at all.

“Trouble we might have avoided if you’d for once spilled the beans from the very beginning instead of playing your secret games to expenses of your son and my agents,” she replied at least as sternly. He bit her and she’d bite back. She’s never been known for being subtle and subdued.

“I had my reasons,” he gave his trademark answer, which she couldn’t listen to anymore.

“As usual. James, this has to stop. We’re not any pawns in one of your games. Don’t you realise that you’re risking the lives of our agents and our scientists? Your son? Don’t you care at all about their wellbeing?” she asked him. No, she accused him of being indifferent to others wellbeing. He would risk lives if it helped his cause. She couldn't and wouldn't tolerate it any longer. 

“You’re the right one talking, Matty. Sending the team nonstop on missions for weeks without a break, but I’m the one risking your agents' lives?”

Matty winced at that, because she knew what James referred to:

_They all dragged their roughed up bodies into the jet, neither of them talking. Twelve days. It was twelve days they were jumping from one hotspot to another one. They’ve been around the world at least twice these twelve days. They were all bone tired. Sleep had been a rare companion those days. Mac felt a headache building behind his eyes. Since the mission before the last, his cognitive skills had slowed down rapidly much to Jack’s dismay, who’s never complained that much about Mac being that slow since they were partnered up in the sandbox. The collective relief washed over them when Matty ordered them home. It was only another ten hours flight until they could finally get some decent rest. But as experienced they were, they all decided to make use of the ten hours flight. One never knew what you met when you got off the jet. At least they could rest during the flight with no new mission to prepare for._

_Mac left the sofa to Jack who had taken some serious blows during the last mission, partially because Mac had taken longer than anticipated. With foggy brain he slumped down on the seat in the far corner of the jet a little away from the rest of the team hoping nobody would take notice of him until they were finally back. He closed his eyes. The world was spinning and the building headache was now exploding. He knew that he should probably drink some water to relieve the headache, but he couldn’t get himself to get up. He closed his eyes and sighed a breath of relief while shutting out the world around him._

_“Mac?” he heard Riley approach him. Her voice already conveyed that he wouldn’t be able to make full use of the next ten hours. She approached him with her laptop in her hands. He opened his eyes and looked up._

_“You okay?” she asked him and was about to turn around and leave him alone. As much as he would have appreciated that act, he knew he couldn’t turn her down. If she asked him it meant that she needed his help._

_“I’m fine,” he replied sitting a little more upright in his seat taking a look at the screen of the laptop._

_“Matty asked us to have a look at this,” she showed him some construction plans. It took Mac a while to understand what it was for - a high-tech vault. He groaned inwardly hoping this didn’t mean that their trip back home was cancelled already. He really was tired. They had luck. Matty only wanted him to prepare a plan to hack the vault for another team. He could accomplish that, but it took him longer than thing like that usually did. He wouldn’t complain though, as long as the prospect of actual sleep was still in sight._

_Sleep just moved further away when they arrived at Phoenix. Matty wanted Mac and Riley to finalise the plans regarding the high-tech vault. At some point Mac sent Riley home. She was no help in the state she was in. Hell, he wasn’t sure whether he was of actual help or drawing up bullshit.  
_

_It was late at night. The hallways and offices were empty and only a person here and there left working in a lab. It was quiet. He couldn’t tell when, but at some point it had become a routine to walk through the building before he headed home. A cynic voice in his head told him that maybe he still possessed a heart and he was just making sure that everybody was safe at home and resting for the day. Nobody would believe that, James MacGyver thought and he didn’t blame anyone for that. He wasn’t the emotional cuddly type of guy – had never been. It didn’t mean that he didn’t care, though. He did care, only differently. That was why he stopped when he saw Angus fallen asleep at one of the lab desks with coffee mugs, paper and pens scattered around him. A look onto his watch told him that the team was supposed to be home for hours now. He shook his head and finished his round, before he came back with a bottle of water and something against headaches. He only knew too well what rough missions and a lack of sleep did to you. He gently nudged his son’s shoulder to wake him. Angus couldn’t have been deep asleep, because his eyes opened immediately blinking at him._

_“Dad?” his voice sounded hoarse and confused. Angus wasn’t really with him, but far away._

_“Here take these and then we’ll head home,” he handed his son the pills and the bottle with water which is son took from him without further questions. He rarely met his son defenceless like that. And while he knew it was a dangerous state for an agent, he was glad that his presence didn’t cause his son in reflex to pull up his guard. But maybe it was exhaustion which stopped his son from just that._

_“Thanks…how late’s it?” Mac asked him his voice still slurred with sleep deprivation._

_“Past eleven. Come on, let’s get you home,” he replied. Against his instincts he refrained from helping his son to get up from his obviously uncomfortable sleeping position, but he was prepared to step in if needed. In silence they made it to the garage until Mac was about to turn left while James intended to go right._

_“Where are you going?” he asked his son anticipating the answer._

_“My car,” Angus told him. He stood on wobbly legs and it was obvious that he was about to fall asleep the second he would sit down again._

_“Let me give you a lift. You shouldn’t be driving in that state.” he suggested to his son who slowly processed his words. Angus stared at him looking younger than ever and then nodded acknowledging what James had just said. It was this picture in front of him that James decided that they needed a new system for rotation. Twelve days and an additional working day was definitely too much. They had to assess the teams anew, their strength and weaknesses in order to distribute the missions more efficiently on more teams.  
_

_Without any more words spent, they walked to his car. He switched on the radio to silence the silence and watched Angus from the corner of his eyes. His son was asleep with his head leant against the window of the passenger site. Slow regular breaths told James that his son was sleeping a dreamless sleep. It was a peaceful moment and James would treasure it in his heart like all those rare precious moments in which he and his son were just that – father and son. James was aware of the fact that most people doubted he had a heart. He didn’t blame them. He didn’t even blame them thinking of him as a selfish bastard incapable of taking care of a kid. He deserved it and on the other hand he knew that he had made the right decisions. It was just difficult to explain to someone who didn’t know the circumstances. It was this firm conviction which made him capable of bearing the remorse and his son’s rejection._

_They pulled up the driveway to Angus’ home. His son didn’t even stir when he turned off the engine._

_“Hey kiddo, we’re home. Better get in a real bed,” he said gently shaking his son’s shoulder to rouse his son once again from his slumber. James winced inwardly, because he knew what these naps did to your neck. His son really needed to get to lie down properly if he wanted to avoid any orthopaedic damage._

_“’kay,” was all James get back as response while Angus yawned tiredly stretching his abused neck. He followed his son inside waiting for him to ask his father to leave, but he didn’t. James was realistic enough to know that the sleep deprivation was to be blamed for this. Still, he would take this moment, too._

_“You want anything to eat first? I could prepare you something?” James asked Angus who just shook his head._

_“Shower and then to bed, I think,” his son told him and then headed off to his bedroom. James waited for his son to disappear in the bathroom before he went to his son’s bedroom to fold back the blankets. He hadn’t done that for over a decade and now he stood in his son’s bedroom folding back the covers to make sure the bed was ready for his son when he came back._

_James went back to the kitchen remembering his wife – a rare occasion too, since he tried to block out her memory as much as possible. It still hurt too much. She used to make him one of those teas when he came back home beyond tired. He rummaged through the cupboards and was surprised to find a box with tea in it that nearly smelled like the one his wife used to make. He never got behind what was actually in it. Chamomile for sure. Maybe a touch of lavender? He wasn’t certain about that. He took a mug and poured hot water over the herbs – hot not boiling like his wife always admonished him. It felt strange to remember this and then again it felt so familiar and comforting, as if this was a nightly routine his son and he had developed. It couldn’t be any further away from reality. If Angus was only a little less sleep deprived and a little more alert he would’ve shooed him away by now – politely but determined to let him know where his place was._

_He heard the shower stop, took the mug and headed for his son’s bedroom to find his son fast asleep already, damp hair and all. His wife would’ve been furious if she could see that. She’d always admonished him when he went to bed with still damp hair. She would tell him that he didn’t need to wonder about headaches, if he went to bed like that. She probably would’ve told their son the same by now – if she was still there. Carefully he placed the mug on the nightstand and drew the curtains. It was a chilly night and he took a throw which was carelessly placed in the corner of the bedroom. When he approached his son’s bed his self-esteem however left him and he started to debate whether it was actually appropriate to tuck in his grown-up son. It probably wasn’t, especially not with respect to their sort of broken relationship, but he did it anyway. His son didn’t need to get a cold. When he was done he switched off the alarm clock and the cell phone. To be the boss had to have benefits._

_Nobody noticed that Angus was late for work the next day, since the jet to Azerbaijan took off at noon._


	46. Another Problem

“Alright Jame, I’m not perfect either, but still. Your secret agendas are dangerous. So, from now on, I want to be informed about every single plan or I’ll leave the Phoenix,” she presented him with a fait accompli and meaning it. She would leave and if she did, she would take Dalton, Davis and Bozer with her. Damn, she’d take Mac as well, but she was sure his father wouldn’t let him go even if he wanted to.

“Fair enough,” James replied as innocent as possible clenching his jaw. He wore the same expression like his son when he was thinking heavily. Matty could hear the gears moving in his head. He was making up a plan, she could tell that.

“So tell me, what else is going on?” she demanded after a while of mutual silence. She sensed there was more beside Ahmed when she talked to James and she wanted answers now. She was willing to put up with Oversight, because after all she believed he was a good man. But he had one major flaw: he didn’t ask for nor accept help. She was content if he only once approached her and asked her advice, things would’ve turned out less dramatically. She wished James would trust her more, but after Walsh, he failed to trust anyone despite his own son.

“Nothing, I swear,” James countered holding his hands up in the air demonstrating defeat. Matty didn’t buy it. She knew him too well. He was holding back something and she was afraid of what it was.

“Stop bullshitting me and tell me what else is on your agenda. As much as it did make sense to get Mac back to the Phoenix, your determination to retain his fitness for the field doesn’t,” She drove him into a corner. It was a dangerous game she was playing, because James could lash out any second. She had to bear that risk now.

“James! Damn, it! Now tell me or I’m gone for good,” she instead harshly, but got no reaction. She shook her head in disbelieve. Then there was nothing left to say. She hated the idea of leaving Mac behind in his father’s clutches, but she had to make a decision now. She would always welcome him with open arms, but for this Mac needed to cut the strings and she doubted James MacGyver would allow it neven if Mac tried. She turned around and was about to leave, when she heard a dreaded name.

“Walsh,” was all James said. His eyes were glued to the floor. Guilt washed over him like a tsunami and at the same time she felt how cold fear crawling down her spine.

“Don’t tell me…,” she said, because she had no other words left. She was incapable of phrasing a coherent sentence, because already images of destruction and pain played in her head. When she looked at James she for once didn’t see the determined man who pursued his plans at all costs, but a tired man, who has reached his breaking point. 

“He’s back again. I have to stop him and I’ll need Angus by my side,” he explained to her. She was beside herself with rage, but couldn’t let it on. She had to stay calm even at the prospect of a suicide squad, which James had just implied to her. She needed to be cool headed. 

“And how did you come to think that I’d allow such a mission, let alone you taking Mac with you?” she asked. She wouldn’t allow it. She had to protect her team from Oversight and she would with all force and determination she was capable of.

“Matty, this here is not about a mission. This is not about me going after Walsh. He’s after me and he’s dragging Angus into this,” James spilled the beans – finally. It sent chills through her. They had all known that Walsh was a dangerous man, but they’ve always hoped to stop him before he could act on them. Now they’ve been too late. Walsh was there and they weren’t thoroughly prepared.

“The hunter became the hunted,” Matty concluded. This was a nightmare becoming true. Walsh once managed to hack into the systems of the Phoenix. He was a very capable man. If he wanted something, he didn’t ask but take it.

“What have you got?” she asked him, but didn’t get an immediate answer. Instead James turned around the screen of his computer and pressed enter. It was a short video showing a young blond man laughing about something. He looked happy. It must’ve been one of the rare days off when he and his friends were simply fooling around and enjoyed being young. The scene switched and showed all of them gathering around the fire pit for an after-mission beer. Matty felt her neck hair raise. It was a scary idea that there has been someone following them so close for so long and nobody of them noticed a thing. This guy was capable of intruding their very privacy. She looked at James his face was dark with concern.

“James, I don’t know what to say…” she said but trailed off when James motioned her to watch on. The scene changed again. This time it showed a sad young, blond man kneeling in the autumn sun on the colourful leaves of the season in front of a tombstone. A sharp pain like lighting went through Matty’s heart at the sight of those eyes clouded with grief and a body screaming for comfort, which wasn’t there. She’s never been aware of Mac’s grief for his mother, although it was so present at times. She knew the anniversary of her death, but she never came to ask Mac about how he felt on these days. Usually, they were on missions anyway, no time to think about it. This scene got to her. The young man in it seemed so awfully vulnerable and was far away from the man, who she sent on risky missions. Just a boy, she thought to herself. The sight of the vulnerability was what scared her most about the video, because it demonstrated that this person knew how to get to the core of their weaknesses and that he would make use of it.

The screen went black. She stayed silent for a while. There was nothing to say, because the threat of Jonah Walsh rose to a whole new dimension.

“He’s letting me know that he’s around and that he knows my weaknesses,” James concluded and he was right.

“James, we’ll stop him. We might need some help, but we’ll stop him,” Matty assured James. She was fully aware that this was a sensitive situation. With games like this, Walsh could easily trigger James MacGyver and she wasn’t keen on finding out what he was about to do then.

“No, I have to stop him. Walsh is my problem. I have to make sure that Angus is safe,” James replied with a sudden determination, which only confirmed to Matty that James MacGyver was in a dangerous state of mind. He was planning something already and he would realise this plan without a warning.

“No, James. It’s either we or none of us,” she replied as sternly as possible.

“How will you stop me?” James replied bitterly. It caught Matty off guard. He played dirty and he would bypass her. Betrayal. Her head screamed betrayal.

“I’ll find a way,” she said with determination and she would. At that thought it hit her that this was not only about Mac and James, but Jack, too. This bond between Mac and Jack would lead to the inevitable. Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t forced Dalton to go back to Mac and fight for their relationship. Suddenly, she wished she had let them both go separate ways. But trusted Dalton, he wouldn’t have let it go. He didn’t need her to tell him that Mac needed him and everybody only knew too well how much he needed Mac.

“You can't stop him,” James replied sternly. She could tell that he meant every word he said. He didn’t trust her to solve this problem, which would get him and his son in serious danger if she didn’t find a solution. Rage was boiling inside of her. She needed a plan, but she wasn’t calm enough to make one. Maybe it was about time to call in some favours. Alone, she wouldn’t stop this man, but with some help, she could. She wasn’t about to play fair, not this time.


	47. How to make him understand?

The shower helped, so did a new set ofcloths and the breakfast prepared by Bozer. He didn’t know what got him the privilege of a Bozer-breakfast, but he gingerly accepted it. Maybe things were about to smooth out between them. At least they’ve been working as a team again. The engine was still working smoothly and it didn’t even need much communication. They simply knew what was to do. Like interlocking gears they stopped Ahmed and his goons. Yeah, things were going to be okay between him and Bozer. He hoped it would. He couldn’t stand the idea of Mac staying between him and Bozer. They were all gathered in his apartment. He had called Riley and informed her about Mac’s current state.

“So Mac’s on the mend?” Bozer asked tentatively. Jack shook his head. Not yet, he thought. And his heart clenched again. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold onto Mac like this. His strength was dwindling and somehow he had underestimated Mac’s stubbornness, too. The kid was a hard job. Has always been, but Jack never held it against him, because the kid’s behaviour was nothing but a survival strategy. His kid’s coping technics were the best proof of how much your own behaviour reflected the behaviour of others towards you. For Mac it meant he was always expecting to be attacked or to be left alone. He was alert and always defensive – eager to not let on too much.

“But you said they have the sepsis under control,” Riley replied. She looked confused. They were all at the edge. It was too much for all of them. The waiting, the fear and then the hope, which then was crushed again. They were afraid to hope.

“That’s right, but…who knows what’s going on in this big noggin of his,” Jack replied the lack of sleep suddenly overwhelming him. What if it was too late? What if he was too late? He really tried. He did, but Mac’s determination could grow awfully strong at times.

“I don’t know and honestly, I don’t want to. I mean it’s great that he knows all this stuff, but seriously how exhausting it must be with your brain running at full speed 24/7?” Riley commented and she had a fair point. They took Mac’s alertness at all times for granted. They even expected him to have a plan for everything anytime. They never thought that what they considered a gift could also be a punishment. Mac never talked about it, never complained. But he seldom did anyway.

“I think that’s not the point here. What’s frustrating is that he by now should have realised that we do care. Damn, he knows that he’s a brother to me and that I love him, but…he still tried to walk away from us as if he means nothing to us. I…just don’t get it,” the words gushed out of Bozer just like that. He put on display how hurt he was. Riley nodded and went over to him taking him into her arms because this was the only thing she knew which could help. There were no words left to be said, which could possibly offer any sort of comfort.

“Maybe it’s just that,” Riley concluded from her thoughts. Maybe it was just as simple as that: there were no words.

“What’s just like that?” Jack asked her confused, but eager to listen whatever remedy she would come up with.

“We’ve been talking to Mac on and on and maybe the words just don’t sink in. As if he’s listening, but not understanding what we’re actually telling him – what is between the lines,” Riley explained and wasn’t offended by the irritated looks she earned. Of course Bozer and especially Jack wouldn’t get what she wanted to tell them. Their masculinity was in their way for comprehending that. She sighed.

“Jack, remember when you and Mom dated,” Riley went on to explain, but was stopped by Jack.

“You’ve been so jealous at that time…,” Jack started to walk down memory lane, a lane which was an actually very good one.

“Yeah maybe, but that’s not the point. But you also remember when I got so worked up that I started screaming and crying,” she went on. In a retrospect, she was afraid of her temper tantrums, but at that time she couldn’t control them. It was like a beast she had to let out again.

_She hated Jack. He was getting in between her Mom and her. Finally her father – Elwood – left and she hoped for a little peace and quiet time for her Mom and herself, but then this guy turned up and messed everything up. That wasn’t supposed to happen. In the evening instead of sitting cuddled together with her Mom on the couch watching some random TV show, her Mom shared the couch with this guy. Where was her place to be? He was stealing her Mom away from her and she hated him for that._

_“Hey Riles, how was your day?” Jack asked her and she was instantly annoyed by that guy. She hated him. She really did. He seemed so threatening and there was some sort of aggression surrounding him that rubbed off on her._

_“Not your business,” she snapped at him hoping he would get the message and mind his business. She didn’t need a surrogate daddy. What she needed was her Mom. That was enough._

_“Riley, please be polite,” her Mom warned her. Of course she would. At that point Riley didn’t understand what she saw in this man. There was nothing nice about him. He was as cuddly like as a cactus and looked way too old. He wasn’t good for her Mom. That she was convinced of._

_“So did you test – math – I guess go well?” Jack went on forcing a conversation onto her, but she didn’t want to talk to him. Riley didn’t want Jack as part of her life and she hated her Mom for letting him into their small little world. It had been so peaceful and quiet. She had enjoyed the time with her Mom and now this guy was ruining it._

_“What do you care anyway?” she snapped ignoring her Mom’s previous warning. She would wish she had._

_“Riley, stop right now! This is not polite. Jack’s tries to get to know you and show you that he cares. It’s not fair to act up like this,” her Mom admonished her once again, but Riley couldn’t care any less._

_“He’s not polite. He’s just trying to suck up to us,” Riley replied glaring at Jack, who obviously wasn’t sure at what to do and where his place was. Riley could have easily told him – not in her home._

_“Riley! Stop that behaviour now!” her Mom came out of the kitchen wearing an angry face. Now Riley was even angrier, because her mother was angry at her. Riley didn’t want to make her Mom angry. She only wanted Jack to leave them alone._

_“No!” she screamed. She was suddenly all worked up. She didn’t want to spend her Friday evening with this man. She didn’t want to share her Mom with him. She has had to share her with Ellwood and now she had to share her Mom with her Mom’s job. But she wanted to have her Mom for herself. She didn’t want to lose her. She was the only family she had._

_“Riley, stop this right now! I really don’t understand what your problem is,” her Mom sternly said to her and that hurt. How could her mother not know what her problem was? How could her mother not see what was going on with Riley? She started to forget about her. This was all Jack’s doing. He wanted to cut her out of her mother’s life and he was succeeding. This was unfair. It wouldn’t take long and she would be alone._

_“What my problem is? Seriously?” she started screaming at her Mom. She felt the tears pricking in her eyes and she couldn’t fend off the tears streaming down her cheeks. It was a force she has never felt before. She had to let them out, because she felt like exploding if she didn’t._

_“Riley, please…” her Mom tried to calm her down, but she didn’t want to listen to her words._

_“No! Don’t you realise what he’s doing? He’s taking you away from me and then? What’s with me? I don’t want to be alone!” she screamed her chest hurting from the force with which she shot the words out of her mouth – out of her body, while the tears flowed even more openly now.  
_

_“Riley, nobody is taking me away from you. That’s impossible,” her Mom told her. She stayed so calm, no matter how angry Riley was, her mother would stay calm and collected – rock solid._

_“That’s what you say now! But then you’re gone and it’s only me,” she countered in between hiccups from crying. She now was sobbing. The tears wouldn’t stop. She looked at her Mom. She was despaired. She felt so lonely. She was frightened. It was so much to feel and she was overwhelmed. She simply didn’t know what to do._

_“Come here little girl,” her Mom would suddenly say and wrap her into her arms. Riley could still feel her mother's warm, smooth but at the same time strong arms wrapped tightly around her. Suddenly, she felt protected as if her mother was shielding her from what went on outside of their small world._

_“I’m not going anywhere without you,” she mother whispered while rocking her soothingly back and forth. She felt her mother stroke through her hair, pecking the top of her head. The tight grip she had around her didn’t loosen, though. Her Mom was there and would always be. That was what she felt at that time. Her mother wasn’t lying. She felt it. She felt it through the hug and the strength her mother transferred through it. It was this hug, which made her realise that her mother would always be there for her. It was that hug that made her realise that her mother really truly loved her. It were these hugs, which still calmed her down and made her realise – no matter what, her mother would always be there for her._

“I don’t know. I simply saw the guy you’ve been then, but Mom must’ve seen the guy you are now,” Riley said to Jack. His soft eyes locked with hers. He understood that it had been a rough time for her back then. She would never forget that he chose her well-being over his own and just left.

“I understand what you mean,” Jack replied. He understood everything. He understood why Riley couldn’t like him not even if she had wanted to. He also understood the impact that Mac popping up in his life and settling down in it, had. He understood what he had to do to make Mac eventually realise that he had to stay with them.


	48. Improvement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still reading this story. It really means a lot to me. So now, let's get a little emotional and a little fury ;)

Maybe this time they were lucky, Jack thought while he sat by Mac’s bedside again. He watched the steady rise and fall of his kid’s chest. Mac’s condition was improving. Doc Caine hoped to take him off the vent within the next 24 hours. Jack prayed that it would be like that. He needed Mac to wake up. He needed to show Mac what he meant to him. He needed Mac to finally realise that a Jack without Mac was beyond belief. He needed Mac. Mac did save his life in so many ways. Jack doubted that Mac even knew it.

“Oh kid, what am I gonna do with you?” he asked the still frame. He was still musing over what Riley told them. To Jack it definitely made sense, because it explained why it was so easy for his kid to sacrifice himself over all others. But how was he supposed to make Mac understand? Jack heard a firm knock on the door. His head shot into the direction of the door, which revealed James MacGyver. He immediately got up from his chair, but didn't leave.

“Dalton, you here?” Oversight asked real surprise displayed on his face, which got Jack furious.

“Where else would I be?” he snapped. They was no other place, but by Mac’s side for him now. All knew that. Of course Oversight was oblivious to this as everything about his son had somehow been oblivious to him.

“I don’t know, but maybe a mission? Think that’s what you’re paid for,” James MacGyver replied. Jack sensed where this was supposed to lead. James MacGyver wanted to set him off, but Jack wouldn’t do him this favour. Instantly he grabbed Mac’s hand. This was where he was supposed to be and he wouldn’t leave until he knew it was safe to do so.

“It’s also my job to protect Mac,” and stop him from doing anything stupid, Jack thought on. At least he thought that he was only thinking these words, which why James MacGyver’s reaction caught him somewhat off guard.

“Well, he already did that, something stupid,” James MacGyver simply said matter-of-factly. Jack had trouble to comprehend how a father could be like that – so cold. Jack lacked of proper words to form a reply. He clenched his free hand into a fist, but braced himself. He really would’ve liked to punch James MacGyver’s face, but he couldn’t, because it would mean him being separated from Mac. This was a risk he wasn’t going to take.

“Anyway, I’d appreciate it, if you’d give us a few minutes of privacy,” James went on. There was a growing reluctance inside of him. He didn’t want to leave his kid alone with this man. Although Jack was sure that Oversight wouldn’t kill his son, he was also sure that this man didn’t give a damn whether his son was alive or dead. He hated this man – deeply.

“Dalton, I’m his father. I have a right to sit with my son,” James MacGyver emphasized his demand when Jack didn’t move an inch. This sentence owed James MacGyver a cynical laugh. Because seriously? In Jack’s opinion this man was everything else but a father. This man didn’t know what a father was – what it meant to be a father. Indeed, Jack didn’t know it himself, but he has had a perfect role model as father and it were moments like these that he wished he still was still. He would know how to react properly, know how to protect Mac from his father and how to make his kid understand what he meant to him. Because, no matter what rough fights he got into with his Dad, no matter what harsh words they threw at each other in the haze of the argument, Jack never doubted his father’s love. He never did.

“Biologically, that might be true,” Jack snorted not ready to give way now.

“Sorry Jack, but not everybody is lucky to have a picture-book childhood like you did. But look at Mac, his childhood made him the man he is now,” James retorted now stepping forward facing Jack. It was hard to hold back. It was hard to fight against his own instincts, which screamed at him to punch this man into his face – to punch him into oblivion. He couldn’t believe that this man spoke with pride of what he had done to his son. His blood started boiling with rage – blind rage.

“Yeah, an emotional crippled, who thinks of himself as a dispensable asset,” Jack countered. How could this man even in the slightest way claim to have contributed something to Mac being the wonderful person he was?

“That’s the job, Dalton, and you know it. If you cling to life, you shouldn’t do this job,” James countered. He was getting riled up by Jack’s ‘disobedience’ and Jack hoped he would finally make a mistake. But he also knew that he wouldn’t have that much luck.

“Then tell me, what do you need Mac for? Because, if we’re all dispensable assets there must be a reason why you wanted to keep him alive and fit for field missions,” Jack snapped afraid that his sudden idea was right – that James MacGyver had some plan for which he needed Mac.

“That’s none of your business and now please leave,” James MacGyver replied, but Jack wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily.

“Oh yes, it is. If it concerns Mac, it does concern me, too,” Jack growled. He was ready for a fight and he was determined to win it. He watched how James MacGyver stepped closer to him. He felt his breathe on his face. They locked eyes, neither of them was willing to give in, both determined to get their way.

“Dalton, war room, now!” he heard the harsh voice from Matty the Hun. Both men didn’t hear her enter the room, but their battle broke off the second they heard her voice. Jack didn’t move though. He didn’t like leaving Mac alone with Oversight.

“Dalton, I have not the whole day, so NOW”, she commanded. He looked at her, but she wore the don’t-mess-with-me-face and he had to give up. He didn’t like it. When he passed Oversight, he shoved him aside with his shoulder making clear that he wouldn’t back down. Matty tapped her feet and when he finally reached her, turned around to walk to the war room neither of them saying a word on their way. He got a bad feeling. He got them a lot those days.

“Sit down,” she commanded him again as soon as they entered the war room. She looked worried. Something had happened.

“Matty, what’s going on here?” he asked her, her worry rubbing off on him. He only hoped it wasn’t about Mac. He couldn’t possibly worry any more about his kid. If there was another bad news, he wasn’t sure whether he was capable of holding it together much longer.

“We have a new problem. Walsh,” she spilled the beans. Jack felt like struck by lightning. He hadn’t seen that coming. He knew that Oversight was hunting down this guy for years now. He didn’t get why he popped up now.

“Does Oversight have a lead?” he asked Matty. There was a cold dread grapping him from behind, because he knew what this was supposed to mean.

“No, worse. Walsh’s hunting James or rather…he’s hunting Mac to get to Oversight,” she told him. The blood in his veins froze. His kid was not only fighting for his life right now, but also in danger while totally defenceless. This was his worst nightmare becoming true.

“We have to prevent Oversight from doing something stupid, so we have to catch Walsh and we have to make sure Mac’s safe,” she told him. He nodded, not liking how she was prioritising their tasks at hand and then he simply shook his head. This was a nightmare of a situation. At first Ahmed, now Walsh. Jack tried to figure out how many more sickos this Oversight had pissed off enough for them to go after Mac for seeking revenge.

“What’s your plan?” Jack asked her.

“To catch Walsh before Oversight does something he and we all will regret later. It requires all capable men, which means first and foremost you,” Matty explained to him, but Jack wasn’t happy about it, because it meant that he would have to leave Mac and that was dangerous. The only person capable of protecting Mac was Jack himself. They were all now facing what happened if it wasn’t Jack, who was at his side. He wouldn’t let this happen again.

“Matty, I can’t leave Mac now. He needs me,” Jack replied – pleaded with her. He understood that Walsh was a dangerous man. He understood that they needed to get him into custody, but he couldn’t possibly put this goal over Mac’s wellbeing. She couldn’t send him away. Not now. He was despaired. That had to be a mistake. The mere idea of having to leave Mac once again was breaking his heart. He couldn’t. Mac wouldn’t be able to understand, not in the state he was in.

“I know and believe me, I’m not happy about this, but it’s my job to protect my agents and to catch the bad guys and if this means I have to separate the two of you, I’ll do it,” she explained to him. There were deep furrows of concern on her forehead. Jack was furious with Mattey. What if this meant that he never got a chance to repair the damage his harsh words had done? What if this decision gave Mac only more of a chance to distance himself from Jack? What if the result of this was that Mac parted from him for good? Jack couldn’t stand that thought, because it hurt so much. Wasn’t it Matty, who told him to be there for Mac and to stay at his side, because she witnessed that it needed all Jack had to keep his kid from slipping away from them?

He got up. He had to see Mac. He had to prevent this.

“Don’t go back there Jack, not now. I know what you’re thinking and as much as I liked to get my hands on James myself, we need to stay calm and collected. Walsh is a very dangerous man,” she told him putting one of her hands onto his clenched fist. This was a nightmare – a very bad one.

“Matty, I can’t leave Mac,” he pleaded with her. His heart was about to shatter into thousands of pieces and he wasn’t sure whether he was capable of putting it back together anytime soon.

“I know, but you have to. Please do it for Mac,” she told him her brown eyes screaming worry. But Jack couldn’t. Who would take care of Mac if he was gone?


	49. Protecting him

Mac’s head felt fuzzy. He didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know where he was. He felt sore all over and he was exhausted. There was pain everywhere. He took a deep breath. His body felt heavy. There was this sudden wish to curl up in bed and not getting up for the next couple of days. He simply wanted to sleep for a while – a long while. Maybe he could just do that, go back to sleep, but he couldn’t. There was this pain he felt and it was nagging his nerves. And then there was something else. Some sort of restlessness had settled down inside of him. Where did it come from? It felt like there were so many unresolved issues. There was so much left to do. He couldn’t go back to sleep. He had to wake up. He groaned, unsure whether it was because of the pain or the fact that he wouldn’t go back to sleep anytime soon.

When Jack returned to Mac’s room he was relieved to see that the Doc had held on to his promise and took Mac off the vent. He was breathing on his own again. There was yet another step into the right direction. Mac was getting better. They hadn’t lost that battle. But then there was a heavy sadness wrapped around his heart when he went back to the conversation he has had with Matty. He had to leave Mac, although he wasn’t ready for it. Mac wasn’t ready for him to leave. They needed time – time to heal. It were not only the physical injuries Mac needed to recover from, but also from the fight with Jack, from the words and so many other unconsciously said words. But they had to do it together. He had to help Mac with that if he wanted their relationship to go back to something similar they had before. Mac wasn’t capable of it on his own. He leant forward and crossed his arms onto the bed to make himself a pillow. He fell asleep over his thoughts on how he possibly could stop this catastrophe from happening.

Mac understood that he was surfacing, but too slowly for being asleep in his own bed. So something must’ve happened. And then it came all crashing back down on him: the argument with Jack, Afghanistan, the explosion, his father trying to interrogate him and then it was Jack again and again. Jack has been there all the time, but somehow he didn’t remember the comfort he usually experienced when Jack was there. Then it hit him again – hard. There it was – the crack and the feeling of grief after the loss of something precious. Then he remembered the words again and his chest started to ache. It was a different ache which overrode all the other pain he was in. There was this undeniable rip, which went through their bond and it was as unrepairable as Mac was. It was impossible to glue it back together. With that realisation the ache in his chest increased and it was hard to breath. There was so much pressure inside of him that his chest felt like exploding. There were so many unresolved things and so many words unspoken and Mac was sure with each word left unspoken the pressure inside of him would only increase until the inevitable point of explosion.

Jack woke up. Mac was in distress he saw it, although Mac wasn’t moving much. His chest was moving faster, though. He was having yet another panic attack, Jack concluded. Instinctively he took Mac’s hand and put his other hand onto Mac chest, gently as to not to startle him.

“Shh, is okay kid. I’m here,” he whispered softly while rubbing Mac’s chest in slow circles. It pained him to see Mac in such distress and it pained him even more that he wasn’t capable of soothing him anymore. He expected the nurse to bust in anytime soon to give Mac something to calm down again. It had become a habit. Mac would panic, Jack would try his best and fail. But he wouldn’t give up, though. He would never give up on Mac. And even if they had to go separate ways for a while now, he would make sure that Mac knew that he was there. He would go on trying no matter how long it took. He would go on trying until Mac realised that he wasn’t just an asset, but Jack’s kid.

“It’s okay Mac. You’re safe,” he whispered on. His hand still rubbing soft slow circles over Mac’s chest that slowed down – Mac’s breathing was slowing down. Jack didn’t ask how that was suddenly possible again. He was grateful for it, though.

Mac heard a soft humming, but couldn’t make out what it was. Was someone speaking to him? If yes, he didn’t understand. But something was about this humming. His thoughts stopped racing in his head. There was some odd peace and he finally felt very sleepy again. He stopped surfacing, but went back to sleep and he was glad, because he was so awfully tired. The ache in his chest slowly subsided. It didn’t vanish, but it was lessened to a tolerable degree. He felt how his body grew heavier again. He was so awfully sleepy. And with the all too familiar humming in his ears he went back to sleep.

He woke up to soft snoring. It was a familiar sound to wake up to in a hospital. Mac braced himself for whatever onslaught waited for him before he opened his eyes. The room was dark only a dim light at the nightstand was switched on. He turned his head to the side from where the snoring came. Jack. Of course it was Jack. It had always been Jack. Cairo, Lake Como and the countless other times when Mac had pulled an awful stunt, it was Jack who would stay at his side. And now it was him again. He had left Mac, but he came back to him – for him. He came back voluntarily and not playing some sort of games with him. Jack didn’t leave and hide from Mac, requiring him to solve puzzle after puzzle to find out about his whereabouts. Jack didn’t play cat and mouse with him. He was there, as simple as that. He didn’t leave. However, the pain their fight had caused didn’t subside, because it was so awfully obvious how fragile everything was. There was this fear inside of him - the fear of losing Jack and this fear hurt so much. It hurt so much: his mother passing away way too early, his father leaving and betraying him, seeing Josh lying on the ground bleeding out while he could do nothing against it, the three days in Jalalabad and the fight with Jack. It hurt so much and Mac didn’t have a remedy. He had no idea how he could fix this. And then suddenly a sharp sting ripped through his side reminding him of the physical pain he was in, too. He closed his eyes again and breathed through the pain waiting for it to dull down. When it was over he opened his eyes again to meet Jack’s.

A wave of relief washed over Jack when his eyes met those baby blues he’d been missing for so long. They were still clouded from the drugs they had him on and there was this indefinite sadness in them, which ripped his heart into pieces, but they were open and alert. Jack would be fine with that for now.

“Hey kid,” he whispered carefully. He wasn’t sure how Mac would react. He was afraid he would recoil again or even worse: ask him to leave. But Mac didn’t. He just looked at him. There was something in those eyes. They were talking to him about hurt and betrayal, about fear and loneliness. They told him how it felt to be abandoned by the person closest to you and how it was to lose such a person for good. These eyes told him about pain, a pain he’s never felt until he had come so close to losing Mac. These eyes were telling Mac’s story and Mac invited him to see it, to look behind the poker face of the always cheery witty scrawny know-it all, for whom the glass was always half full. These eyes told him that the person behind was the total opposite: a scared kid that had lived through too much and has taken way too many hits as if he was capable of bearing it all alone anymore. Mac was back with him, but he wasn’t in one piece. He was broken – shattered into pieces. And Jack knew it was his job to put them back together – to put Mac back together, but he had no time. They had to part from one another again. And it hurt and Jack didn’t care about the silent tears that rolled down his cheeks when he took Mac’s hand into his.

Mac looked into Jack’s eyes and met the solid rock papa bear that was behind those eyes, but he also saw a deep rooted sadness Mac couldn’t tell where it came from. He had only once seen before and it frightened him. He had seen this deep rooted sadness only when Jack had started talking about his father, their last fight and how his father passed away. But this story always carried a silver lining, because Jack has gotten the chance to say goodbye and make amends. He had come to peace with his Dad. But this sadness shook him.

“Not now. Later,” Jack said realising that Mac noticed that something was off. Count on his kid that he would instantly notice that Jack was deeply shaken. But it wasn’t the right time to tell him now. He felt a tremor go through Mac’s hand. He watched Mac. He was shivering. Of course he would. There was no flesh left on his bones. Jack only nodded and took off his shoes walking to the other side of the bed.

“Scoot over,” he told Mac, who owlishly blinked at him. Mac didn’t understand what Jack wanted from him.

“I can hear your rattling bones from here. Let papa bear warm you up,” he stated and then carefully laid down beside Mac who rolled over to his side making more space for Jack.

“You comfortable?” Jack asked aware of the hiss that slipped from Mac's lips, but reluctant to leave him. Mac didn’t react to his words, but Jack interpreted his non reaction as consent and then carefully wrapped his body around Mac’s thin shaking frame. He pretended not to notice how poky Mac’s bones have become, ignoring the strong scent of illness.

“Reminds me of Siberia,” Jack said remembering how they’d been freezing their asses off in the Siberian coldness. When Jack finally found a comfortable position, which allowed him to shield Mac’s body from everything that was about to come, he felt how Mac carefully shifted even a little closer to him, seeking the contact.

Mac felt the bodily heat that radiated as always from Jack’s body. He felt how it took over his own body covering him like a soft blanket. He felt Jack’s arm draped around his shoulder holding a little closer to his chest. He felt the slow steady rhythm of Jack’s breathing. He felt his tired bones finally coming to rest and his muscles relax, the warmth and this rhythm finally lulling him to sleep.


	50. Call in a favour

Her heart felt so heavy when she was about to enter the room. She had been up all night thinking about alternatives, but there were none. In his current state, Mac was a too easy target for Walsh and she didn’t dare to think what would happen if he managed to do any harm to Mac. As neglecting as James MacGyver might seem as father, he still loved his son in his own twisted way. James wouldn’t think twice about what he would do and jump head first into a life-threatening manoeuvre dragging everyone with him.But she also sensed that it was the worst timing ever to separate Mac and Jack. Mac was as vulnerable as never before. He needed someone around who promised safety and was solid enough to not break this promise.

She sighed and then opened the door. The sight she met made her decision seem even worse as it seemed only seconds ago. Jack and Mac were fast asleep, Jack’s body protectively wrapped around Mac’s thin frame. Like a father who protected his son. Not a lot of good things happened to her agents and in fact, some had to take more hits than the others. For this she believed every single agent deserved that little good he or she was given once in a while. Now she had to take it away from their agents and she hated Jonah Walsh for that. She watched a nurse entering the room wearing a disapproving look on her face. She was about to wake Jack, but Matty simply shook her head. If this was what they needed to repair their relationship, she wanted them to have it. She was fully aware that her decision was risking this relationship. She had seen the rip going through it. She knew that every partnership, friendship and everything in between was bound to go through hard times once in a while and that these relationships needed readjustments and amendments, but given enough time the strong ones would heal and survive. She was fully aware that her decision was putting this relationship at a high risk of falling apart eventually. She was incapable of providing Mac and Jack the time they needed. She was risking her best team, but she also had to think about the Phoenix and all other agents and scientists. She turned around and left. She had to stop Walsh and that was exactly where she had to start.

“Riley, I need you in the war room,” she ordered her IT specialist. She needed her to find the video, which James had shown her. If she found it, maybe she could trace it back to the source where it came from. She needed a lead on Walsh. 

Later that day she returned to Mac. Jack was still there with him. He understood that the dreaded conversation was to come, but somehow Mac looked prepared. A nearly invisible nod from Jack told her that he had already prepared Mac and she was grateful for that. It broke her heart, but it needed to be done.

It took all Jack’s willpower to part from Mac. He wasn’t ready to leave his kid. Mac was not yet ready to be left alone. He might have turned the corner this time, but there was still the process of recovery in front of him and Jack didn’t want him to face it without him. Jack also feared for their relationship. Call it a friendship or partnership or whatever. He feared upcoming separation would be its death blow. He only needed to look at Mac – into his eyes – to see that Mac readied himself for being left behind again. There was this resignation. Mac had somehow shut off and him out. Jack knew that this was how Mac protected himself from emotional pain. However, it was the first time these cold eyes met his. These eyes were nothing compared to what he had seen the night before when he had still hope that things would turn out to be alright. Now he was losing that hope.

Mac understood Matty’s reasoning. But he hated himself the most. He should’ve noticed something - seen this coming and stopped Walsh. But he hadn’t. He had been too self-absorbed in his own misery that he had stopped paying attention to his surrounding and now he had to sit and watch Jack leave and there was nothing he could do about it. Too weak to even hold a cup there was nothing he could do to stop Walsh. He felt useless – he was useless. He failed once again and it took away the person that was closest to him – that meant most to him. Again. Left behind. Again. And it was his fault. Again. It was again his incapacity that led to the fact that a person close to him had to leave.

“Mac, I promise you, I’ll find a way to stop this nightmare,” Matty told him, but he shook his head, because the actual nightmare wasn't Walsh, but Jack risiking his life for his father's mess and it was wrong. If someone besides his father was supposed to hunt Walsh, then it was him. This was his job. Walsh was his father’s mess and thus Mac’s responsibility. If someone left because of this and risked his life, it should be Mac but not Jack.

“No Matty. Walsh's not your and especially not Jack's responsibility,” Mac pointed out. He knew he was right. He felt Jack’s gaze on him. After all, maybe this crack did have a reason. Maybe their friendship wasn’t supposed to survive, but this time it would be Mac who left.

“Mac, I’m sensing where you’re going with this and I don’t like it,” Jack replied. He immediately got where Mac and his self-sacrificing ass were heading to and he wouldn’t allow it. He would put his foot down. He’d restrain the kid and lock him up somewhere safe until James MacGyver and Walsh finally entered the past.

“Jack, I won't sit here and let you risk your life. My father's been huntin Walsh for years now, without success. This won't be a walk in the park,” Mac pointed out. He wouldn’t let other people solve his problems for him, especially not when these problems could mean more than a scrape here and a bruise there.

“Yeah, but you do know that your recovery will take months and…sorry to say that blondie, but until now nobody knows whether you’ll be cleared for any field missions again,” Matty said in full knowledge that this wouldn’t stop Mac if he was determined to do something.

“Sorry, but am I the only one in this room thinking that this conversation took a wrong twist? I mean, even if you – Mac – get back onto your feet, it is still not alright to risk your life again,” Jack countered not liking that Mac, who barely survived his last mission, was already thinking about throwing his life away for his father's mistakes. It dawned to Jack that there was a massive conversation due. Someone had to make Mac understand that it was not okay that he risked his life on a seemingly everyday basis.

“Jack, he’s my father and…this Walsh thing’s…it’s my responsibility,” Mac shot back. He had to get Jack out of this conversation and more important he had to keep Jack out of his father’s business. He didn’t want Jack to pay for his father’s bills, because he didn’t want him to leave. The mere thought of a goodbye hurt more than all the burns and shrapnel wounds combined. 

“Fuck it, Mac!” Jack suddenly exploded and sprung of his chair. The rage started boiling inside of him again. He had just gotten Mac back. He wasn’t ready to lose him once again. Whatever his kid had planned, it was doomed to failure. Worst of all, Jack didn’t get why Mac simply didn’t understand that it wasn't right. It wasn’t right if he disappeared from this world. He was needed! He needed him. 

“Jack, sit down!” Matty ordered. She didn’t like what Mac was saying, but she understood him knowing where he was coming from, but it wasn't healthy either. She had to think about something. She had to make sure that Jack would keep his promise he once made to Mac. Everything else would be like a death sentence for Mac. Walsh had to be a quick thing. In and out and Jack being back at Mac's side again in no time. With Walsh being Walsh, this was a complicated thing, but maybe not impossible with sufficient intel and the right strategy. She knew someone who could provide all this and this someone owed her a favour and somehow she felt that it was time to invoke this one.

“I guess, thinking about strategies and reducing risks is my job and I'll do it. However, I expect you two to stay put until I get back to you,” she ordered the two of them glaring at Mac. She didn’t want him to pull any stunt like leaving the hospital in his condition only to stop Walsh all byhimself.

“What about me?” Jack asked confused.

“Don’t be stupid Jack, someone has to make sure Baby Einstein doesn’t escape,” she replied and then swiftly left dialling a number on her phone. After the third ring she heard the familiar British accent and as much as it pained her to reach out for this man, it had to be done. She felt that this was her only chance to safe Jack and Mac. No, she had no other option, but to swallow her pride and ask for help.

“Russ, good to hear your voice, how have you been doing lately?”


	51. Not expendable

Jack felt rage. Somehow Mac had managed to cross that thin border to Jack’s lands of fury again. Either Mac was determined to cross this border more often or Jack became more sensitive about it. But maybe Mac was simply awfully stupid. Or he just didn’t care. Whatever it was, it didn’t make it easier for Jack to bear.

“Are you fucking stupid?” the words erupted from Jack’s mouth, his Texan drawl revealing the whole dimension of anger Mac had just caused to churn up in him. It was impossible for Jack to understand what was going on in his kid’s head. He turned around to meet those now steel blue eyes. He had hoped to find them apologetic. He had hoped to find an explanation in them, instead he was met with this stubborn determination, which caused fantasies of murder swirl around in his head.

“You’re not fucking expendable!” he screamed as reaction to Mac’s non-reaction. Damn, he had just jumped the gun of death and was already planning his next suicide squad. Jack simply failed to get what went wrong in his kid’s head. Somehow he was awfully wrong wired for a genius.

“I didn’t say I was,” Mac replied calmly. He didn’t understand what got Jack so angry. He blamed the heavy pain meds for this. They were fighting again. They usually never had real fights. Quarrelling, yes. Arguments about this and that, they had on a frequent basis. But fights? It was the second one within quite a short period of time and it scared Mac, because somehow again he couldn’t tell what triggered this one - what he had done wrong this time. He watched Jack pacing up and down in the room letting off steam. Mac just didn’t understand what was going on anymore and it made him felt helpless – so awfully helpless. It was as everything started slipping through his hands shattering to pieces in front of his feet. Why didn’t Jack understand him anymore?

“You’re not seriously gonna start splitting hairs now, are you?” Jack fired back. This was so absurd. Jack was about to lose it again and it scared him. He had lost the ability to understand his kid and it scared him even more. He used to understand where Mac was coming from and it made it much easier to accept his decisions. But right now he didn’t understand a damn thing.

Mac looked at Jack, too stunned to have an answer. Something was definitely wrong here, but he didn’t get what it was. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Suddenly he was aware of the pain again, not the one the shrapnel wounds, burns and surgical wounds caused, but the other one – the pain that he had carried from L.A. to the sandbox wishing to leave it there, but which he had taken back with him again. The crack was still there.

“Angus,” Jack blurted and Mac flinched at the sound of his first name, because Jack seldom used it and if he did, it felt to Mac that he had royally fucked up.

“Only hours ago you weren’t even breathing on your own and you’re already thinking about new ways of dying? Are you fucking kidding me?” Jack yelled at Mac with all fury he could muster up hoping Mac would finally understand, while Mac looked at him not getting what triggered Jack’s anger. It was their fucking job to hunt down people like Walsh all risks included and it was part of their job to think about the next mission while recovering from the last one. Jack really wished his kid would just take a break for once. He understood it was their job to hunt down people like Walsh, but couldn’t Mac just for once stop his self-sacrificing streak and let others do the job? He didn’t owe it to his father – he owed his father nothing. It was this second in which Jack realised how paradox their situation was and it made him sick. It made him sick to know that it wouldn’t take long after this and he would have to watch Mac recovering from whatever injury again. This was a vicious cycle and it dawned to him that it became harder to bear.

“So, tell me Mac, Jalalabad, why did you do it? You didn’t even stood behind my plan?” he went on trying to get a response from his kid.

“I told you, why I did it,” Mac replied wondering why Jack needed so many words. He wished Jack could just understand, without him having to explain everything. And he wished Jack wouldn’t get so angry with him, because he still didn’t get the point of that argument. Or somehow he did and he didn’t like the point Jack was about to make with this. Couldn’t Jack just simply understand how he used to? Inwardly, Mac pleaded him to understand.

“No, you told my why you kept pretending of having lost your memory, but you failed to explain me why it was so easy for you to just throw your life away? I mean everybody is afraid of losing his or her life. Only people like me, fucking soldiers who are trained to give a shit about it, aren’t. And sorry Mac, but the last time I checked you weren’t a Delta but a fucking EOD-tech!” he screamed again, but backing off at the sight of Mac flinching at the words violently thrown at him. It wasn’t on his mind to scare hiskid away, but he had to somehow force him to understand.

Jack’s words started to hurt and at the same time they were driving him into the corner with no way to escape. He hated that feeling and he knew from experience that the only way out would be to push forward, but he simply lacked the strength to do so. He felt Jack’s demanding glare on him burning his skin. He knew he expected him to say something, to defend himself or at least to offer an explanation and he really wished he didn’t have to put it in words, but from Jack’s expression it was very clear that he didn’t understand.

“It’s easier to leave than to be left,” soft words spoken in a whisper nearly inaudible but yet loud enough to drag Jack out of his fury stopping him the second the words echoed through his head. These words strong enough to break his heart and make him wish he had never forced Mac to say them aloud when he saw the raw pain in Mac's eyes. Mac really had wished to not to have say these words out aloud, but he had nothing left to make Jack understand. Their mutual understanding was gone and Mac couldn’t tell where it went or when it happened.

“Mac…you know that I’m never going to leave you. I told you that, more than once,” Jack stuttered not sure how to react to what Mac had just said. All the time he thought that it was all clear to Mac and now he found out that it wasn’t. He really wished he could tell what went wrong in his kid’s head.

“Jack, even you cannot prevent the inevitable. We can’t always beat the odds,” Mac replied wishing that life could just be as easy as Jack tried to make it seem. As if a mere promise a few spoken words were sufficient to make a wish come true. Life wasn’t that easy. It never was and it would never be. He hated to be all too familiar with that reality.

All energy drained out of him and Jack slummed down in a chair. He had always thought it was enough to promise his kid that he was there and would be – that he didn’t intend to leave. But then again, Mac was not easily fooled. It was not always in their hands and they both knew it. Jack looked into Mac’s eyes. Again, they were now cold like steel and guarded, but he didn’t miss the fear hidden underneath. Mac wouldn’t pronounce it, but Jack would hear it anyway and it made Jack feel helpless. Then, Jack got up and left. He needed time to think things through.


	52. If I could cry

After Jack left, Mac curled up onto his side and let the pain wash over him. He reached a point where it was impossible for him to tell the physical pain from the emotional one. When did he and Jack lose the ability to communicate wordlessly with each other? Since when did Jack need well pronounced words from Mac to understand him? Somehow along the way they must’ve lost something, but Mac could neither tell what it was nor when it happened. All he knew was that this must’ve been some time before their fight, before he decided to join Charlie in Afghanistan. He felt the tears prick in his eyes and he wished they could find a way to escape their prison, but they couldn’t. He wished he could let lose.

He would fall and get up again, fall and get up again. That was his nature. He was as much a soldier as Jack was, because he would march on, never resting and never giving up. Mac thought about what it meant for him and Jack. Were they still functioning as a team or was this the point where they had to part for good? Well, maybe they didn’t have a say in this and it didn't even need Walsh to force them to part from each other. Mac was coherent enough to understand that the blast had caused quite some damage. There was a high probability that he wouldn’t return to the team. And then? What would happen then? Long absent, soon forgotten. There would be no more shared stories and no shared accomplishments. No more beers and pizza around the fire pit. At the end he’d be the one, who had to leave, but that was the way of life. Part of the way you’d walk together until you parted and this time it would be Mac, who would go astray, no longer walking the same path as his friends. He hated that idea. He hated the idea of having to build up everything from anew. And it frightened him, because he would be alone again. He hadn’t been alone for years now and somehow got used to having some people around. Although he didn’t ask for help often, it was reassuring to know that there was someone he could ask, if he really needed it. That’d be gone. That thought caused another rip go through his heart and he once more he wished he could just let the pain wash out – purge his system from all that. But he couldn’t. He remembered only a few times when he had actually cried. He was sure he did, when his Mom passed away, but he didn’t remember that.

_He had never been that scared in his life and would never be again. He would never shake off what happened to Josh. He really had tried hard. His father had shown him how to handle cuts, which wouldn’t stop bleeding. The ones he got, when he didn’t pay enough attention to the tool in his hand and the appliance in front of him, which he was about to take apart and put back together. His father then would come and wrap a towel or tissue around his hand._

_“Angus, you need to let these cuts bleed a little. It’ll help to swamp the germs out of the wound, but then you have to apply pressure on it to stop the bleeding and help the cut to close,” he’d explain to him and that was what Mac tried, although he didn’t know whether that rule applied to Josh’ wound as well, because it was no cut. But he had tried. When Bozer’s parents came back and they told their son what has happened, he felt awful. He was beyond sad. He just wanted someone taking him into his arms like Bozer’s mom did with Bozer. Silently, as not to disturb the family, he walked home – to his second home. Since his father wasn’t home that week, he was staying with his Grandpa. It was growing dark. He was glad it was, because he didn’t want anyone to see the tears streaming down his cheeks. His father always used to tell him that crying wouldn’t help him._

_"Angus, you don't solve a problem with crying," he would say. Well, there was nothing that could help him here, because Josh was dead and there was nothing he could do about it, whether he cried or not. So he cried, because he had seen Bozer’s pain and Bozer was his best friend and he didn’t like seeing Bozer in pain. But he also cried because he would never see Josh again. It’s often been the three of them, not always but quite often. What would happen now? Would Bozer be mad at him? Because Mac knew Bozer thought he – Mac - could solve any problem, but this one he couldn’t. He was confident that Bozer was disappointed in him. So that meant he had lost Bozer, too. That made him cry even more and walking in between sobs was really tiresome. But he made it home. His Grandpa was already standing on the porch waiting for him._

_“Angus! What’s going on?” he asked him instantly when he saw Mac walking towards him. Mac couldn’t say a word, because he didn’t know what to say._

_“Where’s Wilt’s mom? I thought she wanted to bring you around,” his Grandpa asked on and then stared at him when Mac finally reached him on the porch._

_“Angus?” his Grandpa would ask again and again, but Mac couldn’t answer him, because he couldn’t stop crying and sobbing and it was impossible to talk like that and anyhow, how was he supposed to tell his Grandpa what has happened? Suddenly, he was afraid that he might be angry at him, because he failed to handle something correctly. He couldn’t shake off the thought that he had been supposed to prevent it from happening. Somehow, it felt like it had been his responsibility to help Josh, but he failed. How would his Grandpa react?_

_“Angus, c’mon little man, tell me what has happened,” his Grandpa once again encouraged him while he crouched down to look Mac into the eyes, but Mac would turn his head away, not daring the eye contact. The situation was disturbed by the phone ringing. His Grandpa got up to answer the call. Mac used that moment to head up to his room. When he sat down on his bed, he realised that his hands were still red and all his cloths were ruined. That was not good. He got up to wash his hands. He remembered that his father told him to wash out blood with cold water. That was what he did when his Grandpa entered the bathroom._

_“Angus, Wilt’s Mom just called me and…explained what happened. I’m…so sorry,” his Grandpa would say uncomfortable about something which Mac didn’t understand then. His Grandpa crouched down to him to look into his eyes again, but Mac wouldn’t turn his head around to meet his Grandpa’s eyes._

_“Do…do you want to talk about it?” his Grandpa asked and that was the funny thing: his Grandpa always knew what to do, but this time Mac felt that his Grandpa wasn’t of much help, because this time he had no explanation to anything. He was as helpless as Mac felt._

_“Know what? I’ll make us a tea and…you want to eat something?” his Grandpa bombarded him with questions and more questions Mac didn’t have an answer to. At the end of that night, he’d drink a cup of tea and then would cry himself to sleep, because his Grandpa just didn’t know what to do._

_It was different when a few weeks before his graduation day at High School, his Grandpa came home with something bundled up in his arms. At first, Mac didn’t recognise what it was, but he also didn’t pay much attention. His Grandpa and he shared the same streak – they collected whatever spare parts they could get their hands on, because someday they could come handy. But then his Grandpa would place the bundle of blankets on the porch and the fact that it didn’t make a sound caught Mac's attention. He looked questioning at his Grandpa ,who shrugged his shoulders with an apologetic expression on his face, which Mac couldn’t quite grasp. Mac got curious and lifted the blankets only to find Archimedes underneath, lifeless and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. He had a big gaping wound on his hind legs. The bile rose in his throat instantly._

_“He got hit on the road by the river,” his Grandpa explained to him, while Mac didn’t give a damn about what happened. He didn’t find any words to say, but there were tears, which was enough to express how he felt about the loss he just experienced. Besides Bozer, Archimedes had been his best friend and now he wasn’t anymore. He hovered over the body not sure whether to touch it or not. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to touch it, because he could catch some kind of germs and infection but he didn’t care when he brushed his head against the soft fur between Archimedes neck and shoulder. The fur wasn’t exactly soft, it was rather a little rough, but underneath the rough coat was a soft undercoat. It was still warm and smelled like the woods and the sun and fresh air – like Archimedes. It was the last time he would cuddle his dog._

_“This was bound to happen, Angus. He was a stray and would break out of every fence,” his Grandpa told him, but Mac didn’t care, because it was his fault. He hadn’t taken good enough care. He should’ve made sure Archimedes wouldn’t run off again, but he failed. His solutions didn’t work properly, because Archimedes would find every flaw and use it to break free._

_“C’mon Angus, let’s burry him in the backyard,” his Grandpa said patting his back and then took Archimedes from him. They did. Mac was supposed to meet Bozer that day at the lake. Mac would call him and say he couldn’t make it. He spent the rest of the day and the whole night in his room grieving the loss of his best friend crying until he would fall asleep._

That was the last time Mac cried. He didn’t cry when his Grandpa passed away. He didn’t cry when Peña died. He didn’t cry when the terrorist in Jalalabad caught him. He didn’t cry when he found out that Nikki – his pretended girlfriend - was dead. He didn’t cry when he found out that their relationship had been a scam. He couldn’t, because his father had been right: crying got you nowhere and it only made you feel miserable. It didn’t provide any comfort. Though, Mac felt as if crying out all the pain was the only solution left, if he just could. He felt the pressure, but there was no way out.


	53. I could use some advice

Jack was on his way home. The conversation with Mac had drained him and it had caused a new kind of tension between him and his kid. There was something accusing about it. The word failure was screamed at him while he drove down the street, the orange evening sun setting on the horizon. Mac was right. They couldn’t always beat the odds. Hell, a month ago he couldn’t imagine that he and Mac could get into an argument which questioned everything – their friendship, their brotherhood or whatever name the bond between them was supposed to be called. And now he was driving through L.A. not knowing how to reach out to his kid anymore. His kid didn’t trust him and it was hard. Why could he have thought that Mac would take his words and believe that he kept the promise after having learned the hard way how easy it was to be left alone?

Jack realised that he never had thought about why Mac was acting or reacting the way he did. He assumed the kid was just reckless as a consequence of his hyperactive brain. But in retrospect some things did make sense now, for example why his kid locked himself up in a room with canister full of lethal nerve gas without the hint of a second thought or why he made himself an open target for the sicko Murdoc or why he reached with bare hands into fire only to drag him – Jack – out of the flames, all this without thinking about the consequences.

Absentmindedly he stopped his car and got out of it. When he reached his apartment, he felt the tension build between his shoulder blades and his neck. It was a chilly night. Unusual for that time of the year, but nothing was as usual. Nothing was right anymore. Everything was out of place and out of order. Jack wished he could turn back the time so that he would see the signs and draw the proper clues, but he couldn’t and it made him feel helpless. This was an unfamiliar feeling for him, because there was always a way out and if he didn’t find he could trust Mac to do it.

He entered his silent and lonely apartment. It was cold in there, too. He had considered calling Riley, but he wasn’t fit for company and he had to solve that problem on his own. How did they say? You break it, you buy it. So it was his responsibility to reach out to Mac. Surely, Mac started spiralling already before their fight, but somehow now Mac was flooring the paddle and started spiralling in a bone crashing speed.

The tension grew and he could feel the tale-tell signs of a headache building. He walked through his apartment to the bathroom, stripping off his cloths on his way there. His muscles were longing for a hot shower and looked forward the relaxing effect. When the hot water poured onto his strained muscles of his neck he started to remember something his father once said to him after he had gotten into a fight in High School.

_He still could feel the heart break after his girlfriend told him that she was seeing someone else now. What hurt most was that she started dating Thomas Hendrix – line-backer of his football team. It made him hate that guy from the deepest bottom of his heart, while he thought that he would never get over that very painful break up from Cindy. It was his first break up._

_But what caused Jack to be really angry was that Thomas Hendrix as one of his team mates stole his girl from him. They were playing on the same team. They were supposed to be loyal to each other. The realisation that loyalty and brotherhood didn’t mean the same to the guy he once called a friend hurt even more than the break up. But it was another kind of pain, because it made him awfully angry, causing the will to break something or someone only to let off steam. It was a burning rage he had never experienced before. He not only lost his girlfriend, but also a friend. Worst of all was that the summer break was still a few weeks away and for this, he had to watch the whole dimension of the misery day in and out. Cindy and Thomas walking hand in hand through the corridors of the school building; Thomas and Cindy laughing about something Thomas must’ve said during lunch break; Thomas and Cindy making out in a hidden corner behind they gym. From this point of view it was inevitable that Jack’s fist would meet Thomas’ face at one point or the other. Jack couldn’t recall how it happened. First, Thomas botched a move during a very important game and the next thing Jack remembered was his fist connecting with Thomas nose._

_His father was called to the principal’s office and Jack felt awful. It wasn't the first time, his parents were summoned to the principal's office. Jack did enough mischief to last for all his siblings. His parents were regular visitors here, but it was the first time Jack had really messed up. Usually the calls his parents received concerned him being late or forgetting his homework or because of his big mouth. Jack had never hit someone before and he wouldn’t repeat it._

_Jack’s father had always been a serene and collected man. So when he was called to the principal, he wasn’t approaching the principal or Jack angrily, but sat down and listened carefully to the events bringing him there. Jack didn’t miss how respectful his father was treated by his principal and other teachers. It was because he was an army man, his mother once told him and his siblings. He accepted Jack’s punishment – one week suspension – as appropriate and thanked the principal for his time and efforts before leaving the office. Jack trudged behind his father on their way to his father’s truck. He felt really bad and wished his father at least would’ve yelled at him what the hell had gotten into him, but he stayed calm and collected. This silent treatment was unbearable._

_Jack didn’t dare looking at his father not to mention speaking. He was afraid of what was there to come, because this time he really fucked up. His head made up all kinds of worse and worst case scenarios. For sure there would be a punishment. Probably a few weeks grounded and several chores on the ranch, but it sounded too easy for what he had done this time. He was sure that his father at some point would yell at him. He seldom did, but then it was scary. He had a strong baritone and was capable of pronouncing his words in a way you had to get his point. Each word reached its target. At least one thing was for sure: his father would be angry._

_They drove to the creek from where they did have a view over the whole ranch. It was one of their favourite viewpoints. Jack didn’t understand what his father had planned but followed him when he got out of the truck. His heart sank at the realisation that now it was time – doomsday was coming. But he was wrong. His father sat down onto the cool grass and patted the spot next to him, asking Jack by gesture to sit down next to him. He obeyed hesitantly. They sat there in silence for a while watching the midges dance over the creek. Once in a while a trout would snap and catch a midge. It was quiet and peaceful, but Jack felt nothing of it. He was tense and the tension grew and it felt like he was about to explode._

_“I’m sorry, Dad,” Jack eventually blurted to get rid of the tension building inside of him. He meant it. He truly meant it, because he had disappointed his Dad. His father didn’t reply though, but nodded in acknowledgement. Jack started pulling the grass to calm his nerves, but it didn’t help. The more relieved he was when his father shifted his position and talked to him._

_“I’m sorry, too, son,” he said quietly. Jack was struck. Of all things he hadn’t anticipated that._

_“But Dad, …that’s…,” he wanted to explain to his father that it was all his fault. His father hadn’t done anything wrong. It was Jack who messed up and disappointed him._

_“It was all my fault, dad. I shouldn’t have punched Thomas. You always told us to solve our problems with words and not with fists,” Jack started rambling._

_“That’s all but true, son,” his father responded without taking his eyes from the view in front of him. His voice was steady and calm and gentle. It didn’t help Jack’s nerves, though._

_“But…,” he had to get his father to understand that he was the one who messed up. His father had always been doing everything right. It was his mistake and thus his responsibility. That was what his father had taught him and he would live up to it. He would prove to his father that he was a man just like him and take whatever punishment there was to come._

_“Nothing ‘but’, Jack,” his father then said and turned around to look Jack into the eyes. It amazed Jack every time that after so many years in the army and in combat his father’s eyes were still so soft and gentle, while they must’ve seen many horrible things._

_“Jack, I should’ve seen how hurt you were, you and your pride. And I should’ve talked to you about it. Should’ve told you that a hurt heart would heal and a hurt pride was nothing to worry about and especially no reason to raise your fists against one of your team mates,” his father told him while wrapping an arm around Jack’s shoulder tugging him closer to his side. They sat like that for a little longer until Jack finally relaxed. Eventually, he was grounded for three weeks and got a pile of chores at the ranch, which would keep him busy most of the summer break, but Jack took his punishment with all pride he could muster up, because he was a man just like his father: taking the responsibility for his actions. What was most important for Jack was the fact that his father still loved him and showed it to him._

“I really could use your advice here, dad,” Jack said into the empty space while staring into his reflexion in the mirror, which slowly clouded through the water steam.


	54. And yet a mission

The next day, Jack went back to Mac. He still had no idea what to make of their last conversation. He was about to enter Mac’s room when two nurses, one of them being Judy, wheeled an ashen pale and sleeping Mac back into the room. Jack immediately recognised Mac’s tell-tale signs for sleeping off the effects of anaesthesia. Already before this fatal explosion he had seen them – seen them too often. There were bullets to be removed from chest or shoulder, knife wounds to be sewed up and broken bones to be mended. He had been with Mac often. But it felt like more often he hadn’t. There’s been another mission to go to or the mission was a really bad one and he was laid up in a hospital bed only few feet away or he has just been utterly exhausted unable to keep vigil. No matter what, his heart sank at the sight of his boy, because he really wished for Mac to get some rest. However, after a long thorough discussion with Doc Caine over Starbuck’s coffee and donuts, Jack knew that there was a long way of recovery ahead of them.

“How is he?” he asked Judy, who arranged the sheets and the IV lines. Jack liked her. She was gentle, but upfront and she took good care of Mac.

“As good as can be expected. Sorry, not very helpful, I know. At least he didn’t give us much trouble. Blood pressure would get a little low once in a while, but no major concerns. So I guess, it’s fair to say that he’s getting there,” she told him. He took the information, while watching his kid recover from yet another physical trauma. Jack might be dumb and all, but even he couldn’t imagine that all the meds and surgeries were good for his kid. They were supposed to help, but they also would leave marks. And then there was the question, when it would become too much for Mac. He was aware of the necessity of all this, but he also was aware of the limited resources Mac had left. The fuel gauge lit up and that probably already before his trip to Afghanistan.

“You should go and get some rest yourself,” Judy told him, gently taking his arm and offering him a warm smile.

“He’ll be asleep for the rest of the day and most of tomorrow. He’s growing restless. That’s not good for the healing process,” she told him. He knew she wanted to ease his conscience into going and have some rest, but this ease wouldn’t come. Of course Mac would grow restless. That was bound to happen at some point and usually he’d be glad to hear it, because it would’ve been a clear sign for Mac getting better. This time was different, though, because Jack was certain that the restlessness wasn’t the result of Mac’s recovery in Mac’s usual Mac-speed. It was rather the sign for Mac’s distress and it scared Jack. If Mac was incapable of hiding it from others despite Jack, it told him that things were really bad for his kid.

“I think I’ll stay anyway,” Jack decided, “he’s not doing well with this anaesthesia thing. Gets sick and cold and confused and all,” Jack listed a bunch of reasons for why he couldn’t leave Mac’s side. Mac would simply need him to get over this.

“Jack, we all know that. You might remember that Mac’s not the first time resident in our facility,” Judy reminded him of their frequent visits to medical. He made a mental note. They had to find a new approach for their missions. It couldn’t go on like this anymore. No wonder his kid was afraid of losing him when each mission landed them here with bruises, cuts and gunshot wounds. So, although Judy’s words were meant to ease him into going, they triggered the opposite: his worries only increased. He stepped a little closer to Mac. He cupped his cheek with his hand. It was cold. Mac looked so awfully fragile like he was about to break apart any second. There was this physical need to be as close to Mac as possible, because even though the worst was over, he still feared Mac might slip away.

“He can be really lucky to have you at his side. You’re helping him,” Judy said and then left him alone with Mac giving up her mission to get him to leave. She was smart enough to realise that this was a losing game. Jack really wished he could believe her words. After their last conversation, he wasn’t sure whether he was of any help at all or only adding up to the fears. Indeed, he was ready to jump and do whatever was necessary to help Mac heal emotionally and physically, but his means were limited. And without Mac making a few more steps on this path into his direction, Jack couldn’t reach anything. He would support Mac making these steps, but he had to form the will for it. To Jack, it was obvious that something was blocking Mac’s way. He didn't know what it was.

Jack wouldn’t stay long with Mac, because Matty called and required his attendance in the war room ASAP. He entered the war room and was surprised by the presence of a man about his age, he hasn’t seen before. He was a dark haired, well-dressed man and something about him was suspicious, but Jack couldn’t put a finger on it.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Jack asked not taking his eyes off the man in front of him. Jack could tell his presence was a sign for bad news.

“Yes, Jack Dalton, this is Russell Taylor,” Matty introduced him to the man in the room. Jack acknowledged his presence with a short nod and waited for Matty to continue.

“Nice to meet you,” the Taylor guy got up and extended his hand towards Jack. Jack ignored that gesture. He sensed what this conversation was going to be about and he hated it already. Taylor looked at him and Jack shot him angry glances, which finally forced him to drop his hand and let Matty go on.

“Russ will help us to find Walsh,” Matty said matte-of-factly. 

“And how come that he knows where to find Walsh?” he asked curiously. If Matty trusted that guy, he should too. But also Matty wasn’t almighty. She could be wrong, too – at least sometimes.

“Without wasting too much time on this: he’s former MI6 with a lot of connections and influence,” Matty pronounced her words carefully and clipped telling Jack to shut up and trust her. On the other hand, her words conveyed that this Taylor guy was shady and he didn’t like shady. He was more the black-and-white kind of guy, knowing what he got himself into. Shady always meant risks.

“And you want what? Him to hunt down Walsh and turn him in?” Jack snorted, because that guy didn’t look tough enough to take on a man like Walsh.

“I want you and Russ to hunt down Walsh, as a team,” Matty dead-panned him and Jack lost all words to say. She couldn’t mean it. He couldn’t go on a mission diving head first into a life risk, while Mac was here fighting some demons. He clenched his jaw. He thought Matty knew that Mac needed him around. She was the one making sure he was there for his kid. She couldn’t send him away now.

“Sorry Matty, you know I can’t leave, not now,” Jack replied. She should’ve seen it coming. The fight between Jack and Mac the day before had only made obvious how fragile Mac’s emotional stability was lately and she was aware that the only pair of strong arms keeping Mac from finally falling apart was Jack’s. It hurt her having to do this, but there was no alternative - at least not a satisfactory one.

“Jack, I need you. If I trust one person with Jonah Walsh then it’s you,” she told him. There was only one reason that could make Jack agree to her plan and that was the same reason, for which he was currently saying ‘no’ to that mission. He couldn’t be part of that mission, not after Mac’s confession, not after his kid had made so very clear how much the idea of losing Jack terrified him. He’d jump at the idea of nailing Walsh, but not now when his kid was the most vulnerable and so close of breaking apart beyond repair.

“Matty, Walsh is not just one of the bad guys. He is the bad guy. I can’t risk to…I have a responsibility. It’s not about me anymore. There’s Mac. If something happens to me…I can’t leave him alone. And then there’s Riley and Bozer,” Jack spoke the words of a worrying father. At some point it was bound to come to this. If they talked about their little family, it wasn’t just a word said or a name for their team. It was what it felt like, for both of them – Jack and Matty.

“Jack, please don’t make a fuss. It’s been a lot for all of us to cope lately and you all deserve a break, when this is over…” she was placating him, but he wouldn’t have any of it. He has made a decision and it would take a lot more than a few warm words to make him change his mind.

“This here’s not about a break, Matty. Mac…I…we all know that he has serious abandonment issues and it won’t get any better if we keep on triggering it. A little steadiness could help here more,” Jack went on. Matty felt the same and the decision wasn’t easy for her. She was aware of Mac dealing with a lot of shit at the very moment and she also knew that he was in somehow critical emotional condition. As Jack, she was afraid of what this mission would do to Mac, but she really had no other choice and she wasn't only a member of their family, but the director of Phoenix as well. She had to do her job, too. It was a walk on a tightrope to do justice to both of her roles.

“Jack, Mac’s not a kid anymore!” she nearly yelled at fury as a result of her lack of options. How did everything start to fall apart? Hadn’t she done everything in her power to hold together the team - her family?

“He’s growing dark around the edges already, Matty. If we keep on pushing him like this, he’ll end up an incalculable risk just like Oversight. Because like he, Mac at the end does give a shit about whether he dies or not,” Jack pointed out and he was right – some sort of. There were parallels between James and Mac although not yet obvious they were there. When Mac set his mind on something, he would put it through, even alone if he had to. Just like James, Mac was a lone wolf, who could easily rely on himself and he wouldn’t hesitate to turn around and dive head long into a suicide mission if it was worthwhile. And just like Oversight, Mac started to play his own little secret games. During his search for his father he had shut Jack out, deliberately. He shut her out, too. She shook her head. She couldn’t stand the thought of Mac slowly morphing into another James MacGyver.

“Jack, I get what you want to tell me, but the only other solution is to send Mac to a safe house for an indefinite time and that wouldn’t help him either,” she pointed out the only other solution she could come up with for protecting Mac from Walsh.

“Matty, please don’t make me go,” Jack replied, nearly pleaded. Now her plans were back firing on her. She had told Jack to take care of his kid and to make sure he would come back to them. So if this was the outcome, she was to be blamed for it.

“Sorry, Jack. Russ already has a lead on where to find Walsh, but the time frame is awfully narrow. I need you two to go, now,” she wiped away all his hopes, Jack didn’t resist. If this was a chance to protect his kid, then he would take it and he was determined to make it as quick and efficient as possible and he was determined to be back in one piece for his kid.

“I’ll talk to Mac,” Matty closed the conversation. She saw the dark determination in Jack’s eyes. He was fuelled by rage and she couldn’t deny that she was making full use of it. Because Jack in a rage fuelled stage was a very efficient Jack. She still prayed that everything would be alright and that the only conversation she would have with Mac was about Jack’s mission


	55. A dreaded conversation

She didn’t feel good. In fact, she dreaded the upcoming conversation, which was a total new experience for her. She had never missed a fight before and always fought with her visor open. But now she found herself looking for an excuse to hide behind, but couldn’t find any. Jack was right when he pointed out Mac’s fears and that he currently was in no state to waste any energy on taming those – to compartmentalise. And she was sure, Mac would do just that. He didn’t know any other coping mechanisms other than compartmentalising. It wasn’t right. She felt it. It wasn’t right to force him to do it again and again, because it cost him so much energy which he needed to keep from falling apart. Its effects were apparent now when Mac, as Jack said, was most vulnerable - a state he's never been in before. Jack was right. It wasn’t fair to demand that much from him. There was no other option, though. It was either Jack hunting down Walsh or force them apart by sending Mac to a safe house. She shook her head to get rid of these thoughts. After all, she was a boss – a leader. She had to stop worrying. She couldn’t let her emotions get the upper hand over her. She had to stay rational. In a secret and well-hidden part of her heart she felt like she did the one fateful night when she made the call. It was the same protective instinct, which made her want to cradle a certain blond in her arms whispering soothing words of comfort. But she couldn’t.

She had to stay strong. She was aware that she was used to push her team – her family – to the limits and she has gotten used to get the performance she expected. She risked them to fall over the edge though, and Mac was awfully close. Maybe she should’ve been more sensitive about Mac’s condition after he found his father. Maybe she should’ve been more attentive to the impact it had on her family. Once again, she shook off these thoughts and entered his room. He was awake. She should be happy about that, because it meant that Mac was really on the way of recovery. However, she wouldn’t have minded some more time for preparation while watching his sleep. She would have taken eagerly any chance to postpone the dreaded conversation.

“Matty?” he acknowledged her presence warily. His voice was still laced with weakness and she reminded herself to keep that conversation short to not wear him out too much.

Mac was surprised that Matty entered his room. He had expected Jack or Bozer and Riley. Matty didn’t make any courtesy calls. If she was there now, it either was about a mission or bad news or a combination of that. Seeing that Jack wasn’t there, he sensed what the visit was about. He ignored how his body tensed up aggravating the pain, which had woken him from a restless slumber.

“Indeed, it’s me Mac,” Matty tried to counter as nonchalant as possible. She felt his penetrating gaze. He saw the change in her attitude and he would make first conclusions. He probably knew already what this conversation was about.

“Cut it, Matty and tell me what’s wrong. Where’s Jack?” Mac came straight to the point. He wasn’t in the mood for playing some cat and mouse game. Get it over with. That was his new mantra and what got him through the day.

“He’s on a mission,” she tried one last attempt to gain back the control over the conversation and its course. Looking at Mac, she could tell she would fail. There was something about his expression and suddenly she understood what Jack meant when he said that Mac grew dark around the edges. He was not only guarded and ready to defend, but prepared to strike. That was new. Attack was the best defence. It seemed kind of threatening. She had lost the battle and gave in.

“He’s hunting down Walsh,” Mac summed up the unspoken conversation. Mac grew angry, because it wasn’t Jack’s job to clean up his father’s mess – and for him Walsh was definitely his father’s mess, because he was responsible for his partner and when his partner spiralled into the wrong direction, it had been on him to do something about it. He hadn’t. Nevertheless, it was family business. So if someone besides his Dad was responsible for hunting down Walsh, it was him. It wasn’t fair that Jack had to risk his life for this. The mere idea of Jack not returning from that mission drove him close to the edge of yet another panic attack, but he was determined not to lose it in front of Matty. Meanwhile ,his head came up with numberless reasons for which it shouldn’t be Jack hunting down Walsh, but he.

“Yes Mac, he’s hunting down Walsh,” Matty confirmed while stepping closer to his bed. She didn’t miss how his breath sped up. He was very subtle about it. If you didn’t know Mac, you probably wouldn’t even see that something was off. But she did. After so many years of watching him, she could read him. Not like Jack did. Mac would never allow that. But a few things she would pick up. That was why she saw that he was on the verge of a panic attack, but he was holding his own and he wouldn’t lose it in front of her. That was something, only Jack was allowed to see. She had to admit, the fact that she could see how that news got to him only proved the miserable state he was in. Under normal circumstances he would have compartmentalised on instant not giving anyone a chance to see how he felt. Under normal circumstances, though, he wouldn’t be recovering from the consequences of an explosion. The idea of how easily Mac could hide from her scared her, though. She asked herself how much she didn’t notice although she should have.

“You know that this is wrong, do you?” he asked her, because what was this really about? It was the Phoenix and more importantly his father who wanted to secure a valuable asset. It wasn’t right to risk Jack’s life for this.

“No, it’s not,” Matty replied and she meant it. In fact, whether this was right or wrong depended on the perspective one took to judge the situation. An objective one would probably agree with Mac that this wasn’t right, because he was an agent like any other and it belonged to the job’s risks to be hunted by people like Walsh as it belonged to the job to deal with it. But she had lost her objectivity a long while ago, probably never had it when it came to Mac. True, she had put up the tough façade tried to give him a hard time at the beginning, but only to prove to herself that Mac was just an agent like all the others. She failed though and she didn’t mind when the team – Mac, Jack, Bozer and Riley – all grew to her heart and they started to form a family. It was her family now and she had a damn right to protect each of them.

Mac shook his head. What if something happened to Jack? On a mission that was supposed to save his scrawny ass from Walsh? Riley would hate him for the rest of her life, he was certain about that. This was becoming his worst nightmare. Jack was out there on a Hail Mary mission and he was far away from being able to support him. He couldn’t jump in to help – not even if he wanted to. He was locked up in a damaged body and vulnerable mind. All he could do was sit and wait and hope that everything would be okay, while the fear of Jack never returning to them ate him up from the inside. He tried hard to push this thought aside, because he knew Jack was the best at this job and probably that was the reason for why sending Jack was the only reasonable option. He pushed the thought away as hard as possible, but it came back again and again. He couldn’t stand the idea of losing Jack – not over something like this. It frightened him.

“Mac, listen to me. I didn’t decide this to upset you, but to protect you,” Matty explained herself. She recognised how lame that excuse had to sound in Mac’s ears. He’s heard that phrase over and over again and it never made sense to him. It wouldn’t make much sense to him this time, too. Because how do you explain that you have to hurt someone to protect him? It was as paradox as the night was dark. Mac smirked at her words and that got her attention.

“It’s a strange strategy you follow. You protect me by taking away those people closest to me? Those who are important to me? How long do you wanna go on with that? Until nobody’s left to take away?” Mac asked and looked Matty into her eyes. He saw how it started to work in her brain. She thought he didn’t know, but he did. The film and her reflextion. He only needed to add one and one. The film must have been taken shortly before his tenth birthday. It amazed him that she really thought she could fool him.

“So you know,” Matty declared defeat. Now she was forced to have that conversation, too. Count on a MacGyver to blow your plans to hell and go on with his agenda. In this, Mac was just like his father and he could be as dangerous, too. The more it was important that he trusted her, but this here was not getting her there.

“Tell me, how long have you been around?” Mac asked her to spill the beans.

“For a while. It started with my investigations on your father and then I decided to stick around. But not like a 24/7 observation, just checking in on you once in a while. I just wanted to go with you, see what you’ve become,” she told him honestly. It was not worth it lying anymore. Mac would detect the lie anyway and start digging deeper until he found the truth, just like he did with his father.

“So it was actually you and Dad staging my life, setting all this up so I would follow his footsteps, just as you planned?” he said with bitterness of which she didn’t know he possessed it. But that was the result from finding out that your whole life had been a lie. He reeled into a whole new spiral of doubts questioning everyone and everything. And then it all made sense, didn’t it? Jack was sent to hunt down Walsh, because it was his job – because Mac was his job. And Jack was reliable and would do his job. At that point, his thoughts took another corner. The bond that Mac had thought had been built between him and Jack through all those years. It’s never been there. He had made it all up in his mind, because of what? His pathetic and despaired need to have a friend, a big brother and a father figure all in once? It was all a scam. It had always been.

Matty watched how Mac’s thoughts were raging through Mac’s head and the dark clouds which veiled his eyes told her that these were no good ones. In an attempt to stop him from getting drowned in whatever nightmare of thoughts, she put a gentle hand onto his leg. That got her his attention back.

“I didn’t stage a thing. I never got involved. As I said, I was checking in,” she started to explain herself once again. She could tell that it didn’t stop the raging thoughts from forming in his head and only hell knew where these thoughts were going.

“Mac, when you’re saying that everything was staged, that’s not true. You father might have guided you to the DXS, but everything else is true. Riley and Bozer are real friends. And Jack? True, your Dad made sure that the two of you were partnered up, because he thought you two with yours skillset would be a perfect team for DXS. He didn’t know whether you two would get along, though. And when he then read the reports of your first month? He gave up his idea. I mean seriously, you two hated each other. That was a mutual feeling. But you’ve pulled yourselves together and something developed which goes beyond a partnership or friendship. Mac, nobody can manipulate something like that. At least not without you noticing it at some point. So please, stop questioning everything,” she told him.

Mac listened, but the words had a hard time sinking in. Bozer? They grew up together. It indeed felt far-fetched that their friendship was staged. Riley was a different story, though. She joined them when they were still working under Thornton. But could she be capable of something like that? She had her own moral standards, which appeared high at times and she was the most emotional member of their team. Could someone play such a role? He wasn’t sure, but doubted it.

“Mac, Jack loves you like a son. So, please give him a chance and start to finally talk things through. And I mean talking. If it’s not Jack, you trust, who else is it?”


	56. Let's have a talk

It took them two weeks to hunt down Walsh and now that little bastard was behind bars or at least behind very thick walls. He was glad that it was over. He had to be honest. He didn’t like that Taylor guy, but the mission had been well planned. There were no losses to bemoan. They made it out mainly unscathed, a scrape here, a graze there and a few bruises, but that they could live with. Bozer and Riley kept him up to date on Mac’s condition. It sounded like he was really on the mend and getting better. But there was something they didn’t tell or text him. Jack felt the urge to see his kid as soon as he touched down at Phoenix. Well, as soon as his own check-up in medical, a shower and a change of clothes let him. He strode through the corridors of medical. He was informed that Mac was transferred to a regular ward. A rock fell from his heart when he heard that news. That news was accompanied with the warning that Mac still faced quite some time in hospital. Jack appriciated that warning, because this way he, Riley and Bozer could come up with a game plan to tame Mac. For sure at some point Mac would try to sneak out and they had to put a halt to it from the very beginning.

It was already late, but since everybody knew about Jack and Mac, his visits were tolerated through all hours. He carefully opened the door to the room Mac was settled in now, but only a little. Sleeping Mac already had a visitor. Oversight. Jack watched him hovering over his son, stroking through Mac’s hair and placing a soft fatherly kiss on the kid’s hairline. It was that scene, which touched Jack and made him question his opinion about James MacGyver. How could someone, who could be so gentle, be such an asshole? Jack didn’t get it, but closed the door. James MacGyver deserved that moment of privacy with his son. He was a father after all. Jack left the medical wing to get a coffee. 

He ended up going for a walk to clear his thoughts. He and Mac didn’t part on good terms. Jack had started to think about what caused the friction between them. But he could only work it out, if he finally understood what went on in his kid’s head. After Mac found his father, it all got so twisted up that Jack had trouble reading him and he blamed this new twist in his kid’s brain for what happened between them. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that it wasn’t only finding his father, though. There was more to it. Jack had been with Mac for a while now. He was sure his kid had so many shit bottled up inside him that he probably threatened to emotionally explode. Due to the explosion in the Afghan cave, Mac probably lost his ability to store away his fears and memories in the box for issues to be solved later as in never. The explosion pulled to the surface what Mac had tried to bury, because Mac lost control. Jack shook his head. It didn’t matter why and what. It only mattered that he got his kid back, soon.

On his way back to Mac, James MacGyver passed Jack. He had a duffle bag in his hand. Jack stopped and turned around.

“You’re leaving?” he asked curious. He saw the walls go up around James MacGyver, but for a split second there was a deep sadness displayed on his face that Jack had never seen before.

“I’m leaving,” James MacGyver said stepping forwards until he stood toe to toe in front of Jack. Jack remained relaxed, because there was no attack looming from the way Oversight moved towards him. There was something else, though.

“I’m glad, he has you,” Oversight said placing an acknowledging hand on Jack’s shoulder. Suddenly it dawned to Jack what this was about.

“Take care of my son - of our kid,” Oversight said patting his shoulder and then turned around to leave. Jack stood there watching him walk away. He closed his eyes and took a deep breathe to collect himself. This was it. That was James MacGyver. Hell knew whether he would turn up again and hell knew what that would do to Mac. Jack debated as to whether run after this man and drag his sorry ass back while explaining him that he had a responsibility he couldn’t run from. He let it rest, because in an afterthought, the time without Oversight had been easier for them – for Mac. With Oversight out of his life, Mac might get a chance to really heal – to heal from the inside. He wouldn’t have to worry about his father and might even forget about him. It would take some time, but Jack would be there to help his kid to get over it. He would be there, so would be Bozer and Riley. And this time, he was determined to not let Mac retreat into himself. He would make Mac face his iusses and he would pull him back to the surface when he would get lost in his head – in dark thoughts. This time, he wouldn’t give him any space to start dealing. If he had to, he would smother him until he voluntarily let them help him heal. This time, he would make sure Mac knew they were there and this time he would make sure that Mac let them help him through it.

He went back to Mac. He was still asleep, but it wasn’t a peaceful. Mac's face was crunched up either in pain or because of a nightmare. Maybe a combination of both. The kid had been through a lot lately. Jack sat down in the chair next to the bed. The sight of his kid relieved him. He changed the gown for his well-worn MIT shirt and sweatpants. The second improvement Jack spotted was that the IV in his kid’s neck was removed. Well, it was still there, but it wasn’t attached to anything. What worried him, though, was the untouched dinner on the trey and the untouched muffins from Bozer.

“Help yourself,” he heard a tired and thick voice. Blue eyes looked at him.

Mac was in a state between sleep and awaking, when he noticed a presence in his room. He forced the process ofawakening to speed up, which proved to be quite a challenge, because of the pain meds he was still on. He really wished they would stop pumping him full with that stuff, but all negotiating and debating had been futile up until now. When he finally managed to open his eyes, great relief washed over him to see Jack. He was alive and as it seemed unscathed. He didn’t care whether he caught Walsh or not. He only cared about Jack being back without as much as a graze or a scrape. Mac didn’t hurt Jack. That was all which counted for him that very moment.

“Nah, better eat it yourself. Afterwards it’s only said that I’m the reason your scrawny ass gets even skinnier,” Jack replied half mockingly half concerned.

Mac huffed at that. He felt Jack scrutinising him. He always did that, when he suspected Mac to hide something. Mac couldn’t deny that during the two weeks of Jack’s absence he managed to get the control back over himself and his inside. What had been displayed on the surface before, was now safely stored back into its boxes somewhere deep down in his mind and he had no interest on bringing it up again. It had been painful enough to be confronted with it for such a long time. He was recovering and on his way back to his normal self.

He started the slow process of sitting up in a more upright position. His muscles protested. They were stiff and sore. Of course they were. The one half was sliced by shrapnel and the rest hasn’t moved for a while now. The mere thought of PT was giving him headaches already.

“Are you finally off the hook or is there more surgical treatment yet to come?” Jack asked. He had lost the count on how many surgeries his kid has had to endure, but was aware that it was a lot. Well, that was probably what you got from going kaboom in some crap cave in the Afghan desert. It didn’t mean he liked it, though. He watched how Mac tried to struggle into a more civil sitting position. It didn’t take a second thought for him to get up and help his kid.It earned him scathing looks and he ignored them, as usual. Manly pride or not, it hurt to see his kid weak like that.

Mac didn’t want to answer that question, because the mere prospect of yet another surgery was twisting his stomach into knots. But so far the doctor hasn’t given the green light.

“I take your non-answer as a probably ‘yes’,” Jack concluded and sighed, while musing about how much damage an explosion could possibly cause. Apparently a lot. He could feel how it must piss off Mac. On the other hand, Jack couldn’t deny that it served his kid right. He might now think twice before he jumped headlong into another life-threatening action. Who was he kidding? Of course his kid wouldn’t learn a lesson. That was Mac.

Mac felt how the atmosphere between him and Jack had changed over the past few weeks. It lost its ease. There was this strain, which they struggled to overcome. It was not a secret to Mac that maybe the one or other box he had now stored back safely into a hidden corner of his mind, might be the reason for that. Jack had come to lift the lid and peak into the one or other box, while Mac had lost control due to pain medication and pain. It also started to unnerve him that everybody told him that he and Jack needed to talk things through. He couldn’t afford to expose himself any further. He’s been vulnerable and on display for too long. He had to get away from the depth Jack always threatened to enter – and yet entered already successfully again. It wasn’t because Mac didn’t trust Jack. It was because he didn’t trust himself. He was afraid to finally fall apart in front of the man who’s been a partner, a friend, big brother and father in one person. He was afraid to fall apart in front of Jack, because their argument proved just how close Jack could get to Mac and just how awfully he could hurt him by one word spoken carelessly.

The argument before Jack left, had taken a toll on Mac. He has had a hard time wersteling down all the emotions threatening to explode, but he succeeded. Now, Jack was back and his eyes that so carefully assessed Mac’s state, looked through him and his walls, threatened to dig it up again. He felt the growing tightness in his chest. The surge of unshed tears beat hard against his walls, which he so carefully had managed to rebuild. They were still not fully intact, though. Otherwise, Jack’s mere presence couldn’t get to him like it did now.

“Iron man is no fun,” Mac simply replied hoping to gain back their ease, but Jack’s expression told him that he failed awfully.

“I know what you’re trying there, hoss, but that won’t work. Not this time. We’ve been putting this off for too long. And since the doc’s not ready with his patch up job and you’ll be stuck here for a little while, we might as well use the time and start working out what caused our fall out and how we will avoid it in the future. And we might as well start now, because by the looks of yours, I assume you’re not getting back to sleep any time soon,” Jack started. It was difficult for him too. He was afraid that whatever this conversation could bring to light, would hurt his kid only more. He was afraid that this conversation was about to end up in another nasty argument, which did more harm than good. He was fucking afraid to lose his kid over this. Maybe Mac really needed to get free from them – from him? What if Mac really wanted to part? The thought stung and he felt tears prick in the corners of his eyes. He suppressed them as good as possible. He was willing to accept that. If Mac wanted to leave, he had to accept it. For Mac’s sake. It would probably hurt like hell for a while, but if it helped Mac to heal, he would let him go. He didn’t need any more constraints.


	57. Tears

Mac sighed. He didn’t want to talk. He was too afraid that it would set off another fight. He also sensed that Jack carried out a mission here and he wouldn’t let go. His heart sank at the thought what this would do to them. He dreaded the pain, which started surfacing again. How was he supposed to tell him how much the words hurt him? How was supposed to make him understand what he meant to him? How was he supposed to explain what finding his father and his revelation had done to him? How was he supposed to make Jack understand that for him it was much easier to deal with it on his own - to suck it up and leave it behind?

He watched Jack, who took the pot of tea and sniffed on it. The look on his face told Mac that he found it acceptable. Jack poured two mugs of it handing him one. He meant it and Mac felt his flight syndrome kick in. He wasn’t ready for that. His chest tightened even further. Great, he was just about to have yet another panic attack.

“Hey kid, you with me?” he heard Jack and felt his hand on his forearm. He didn’t even notice that he zoned out. He was consumed by his thoughts. That was truly dangerous.

Jack could see Mac’s flight syndrome kick in. He felt bad about it. He felt bad about forcing his kid into something he obviously dreaded. It was like a Band-Aid. Pulling it off fast and rough would get you over it faster, while carefully peeling it off would only prolong the suffering.

“Your dad left,” Jack stated into the room without warning. If these words did something to Mac, he didn’t let him see it. He was back to compartmentalising and poker-facing his way through life.

“I know. He told me, he’d leave for a while,” Mac replied. When Jack left for hunting down Walsh, his father came to him and told him that he and Matty agreed that it was better, if he left for a while - until dust settled over what happened.

“How…how do you feel about it?” It was difficult for Jack to pronounce that question. Seriously, now they were talking about feelings and somehow Jack felt odd about it. This wasn’t what they did. He really wished for a stronger drink than the tea. He could use it. Mac probably too. He, however, would have to wait a while until he was allowed one again. He watched Mac, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know. It’s not like I’m used to people coming and leaving as they please,” Mac replied hearing just how bitter his response sounded. The message that his father would leave, left him blank. He thought he’d be angry or sad or a mix of it, but he wasn’t. At the end, his father was just another person who left him behind to sweep up the pieces his shattering appearance and disappearance left.

“You sound bitter,” Jack said picking up Mac’s undertone and hurt indifference. Mac was bringing his shields back up. He couldn’t really blame him. It had to be exhausting to be left behind again and again. And then there were so many things of which Jack knew that they indeed were exhausting, like putting your own needs on the back burner, because you were committed to save the world. It was the moment in which he wondered how he could have possibly held on for so long. One important reason - the most important one - sat in a hospital bed weighing the words in his head to form a proper reply.

“What did you expect?” Mac asked Jack. Jack could hardly expect him from collapsing in tears. It wouldn’t help anyone and especially not him. He had to accept it and move on. What else was he supposed to do? He didn’t know anything else.

Indeed, what did Jack expect from Mac? He looked into his kid's eyes and saw that they had gone cold. Mac was guarding himself again. Jack nodded. He understood that Mac probably needed to process this, so he decided to put that subject aside, for now. He made a mental note to get back on that later. Jack decided to talk to Riley and Bozer, too. The more people watched out for Mac, the better.

“You know that I didn’t mean what I said?” Jack went on and Mac closed his eyes. He had hoped Jack would let it rest, but he seemed to mean it and get to the core of whatever happened between them. Mac wasn’t ready, though. Mac sighed. If Jack was determined to do it, there was no way for him to escape. Better get it over with, he decided, ignoring the growing tightness in his chest. It felt so awfully close to exploding again. He took another deep breath to regain control over the reeling emotions the memory of their fight caused. And then there it was again: the marks the words left on him and the searing pain, which came with them; the fear of being abandoned by yet another person, who he let to get so close; the anger about his father’s secret games and the insecurity, which he felt when his father told him that his whole life went according to a plan, Mac didn’t even know about. The fight had triggered an emotional storm and Mac had just managed to tame it. Now Jack was about to unleash it again. Could he resist? He could, if he was capable of keeping the waves of pain at bay; if he was capable to overcome his fear from being alone; if he was capable to just walk on as if nothing had happened. It would become an unfair and desperate fight and Mac was bound to lose it – to lose it in front of Jack.

“You were right. I know what Riley means to you. I should’ve been more accurate,” Mac replied hoping that mutual understanding was the weapon to end this conversation.

“And you mean no less to me,” Jack said striking the weak point in Mac’s walls he had barely been able to rebuild around himself again. He felt Jack’s hand on his trembling one. The tightness he felt in his chest spread through his body, which in response tensed up to the breaking point. Mac fought hard not to lose it in front of Jack. The storm was unleashed and Mac fought for control.

“And I should’ve told you that more often and I should’ve made you understand it – made you believe me,” Jack went on. He saw how Mac’s walls started to crumble. Mac fought it and if he was in a better shape, he probably would have succeeded. Jack was making use of Mac’s vulnerability. It was an unfair fight, but it suited its purpose. Jack was ready to help Mac to piece his life back together.

“Jack…just …don’t go there,” Mac pleaded for Jack to stop, because his words were hitting him hard. He felt that his body was all tense now. He felt like a balloon so full of pressure in the inside that a little prick sufficed to explode.

These words hurt Jack, because it hurt to witness that his kid wouldn’t want to lose it on front of him. His kid didn’t trust his words enough to let loose. But what hurt most was the fact that the cause of his kid's suffering. It was unbearable to watch how much pain words of love and care could cause. It hurt to witness that his kid could put up with hardm, but not with love.

“Angus, I know what you’re afraid of. But you don’t have to be. I won’t leave you. I have no intention on walking out of your life any time soon, neither do Riley and Bozer. And you can trust us. This is no scam. Nothing your father could’ve possibly staged. It is all true,” Jack went on. There were only few people calling him by his first name. If Jack did it, Mac came to not hate his first name as much as he usually did. He came even close to like it and he hated Jack for that. He hated Jack for being able to get so close to him. Mac turned his head away. He couldn’t face Jack any longer and maybe this way he could tune out his voice, too. But Jack fought for his attention. He got up and sat down at the end of the bed. He cupped Mac’s chin and carefully lifted it up, but Mac turned his head away. Jack let him, because he was content to win this fight.

“Damn it Angus, the first time we met? I wanted to smash that smug face of yours so badly and believe me, you wouldn’t look as handsome as you do now, if it wasn’t for our Chief to step in,” Jack went on. He still could recall the antipathy he felt the first time he met Mac. ‘We don’t touch Dalton’s stuff”. And now? There was nothing he wouldn’t share with him.

“And you think you would’ve done that?” Mac asked him trying to turn the conversation around – to more secure grounds.

“That’s not the point here. The point is that it’s impossible to fake something like that,” Jack went on and leant back a little letting his words sink in. It was a slow process. He watched Mac’s hands wrap around the cup of tea. His grip has become stronger, but his hands were trembling from tension, Jack suspected.

Mac watched Jack closely. He decided that it was better to not react, because he might give away too much. He was busy taming the storm inside of him. That was tough enough, but from the look on Jack’s face, he could tell that he had yet another arrow in his quiver.

“I mean, thinking about that, I’d never thought that I’d say these words here. I mean, I’m breaking a rule here, but …” Jack trailed off. He wasn’t sure whether it was appropriate to say it. It might be not, but he also had no better idea of making Mac understand him – believe him.

“You’re like a son to me, Angus and…I just love you like one,” Jack said crossing the line he’s always very cautious of not to step over, because he respected Mac’s wish for distance. He couldn’t do that any longer, though. It meant denial and there was already enough denial around Mac. Mac deserved the truth, even if he had a hard time believing and dealing with it. Jack was there ready to catch Mac. He would make sure he wouldn’t fall apart. He watched Mac carefully. His eyes revealed that he was reeling for answers. He had a hard time processing what Jack said. And then there was something, Jack had never seen before. He hadn’t seen it, when he told Mac that Nikki died. He didn’t see it when it turned out that Nikki was playing games with Mac. He didn’t even see it after the Zoe-incident, although Jack really thought he’d eventually see it, but didn’t question Mac when he remained his collected solid self.

Jack’s final word’s hit hard. He wished Jack hadn’t said them. His walls came crashing down on him and the lingering explosion in his chest burst out.

When Jack realised what his words caused, he didn’t hesitate, but took Mac into his arms, hugging him, his arms wrapped as tightly around the thin frame as those injuries would allow him. Then they were wrapped in comforting silence. There was no sound coming from Mac. Only he could feel subtle tremors going through Mac’s body. His shirt was slowly drenched with silent tears, where Mac’s forehead leant against his chest. Jack cupped the back of Mac’s head, gently pressing him a little closer to him. He whispered comforting nonesense and let his kid know it was okay. Everything would be okay.

“I’m there…not leaving…never,” Jack whispered again and again like a mantra, like it was a life line both clung to, while he stedaily rocked back and forth while now and then placing gentle kisses on the top of his kid's head. He didn’t know how long they sat there. At some point he realised that Mac was exhausted and carefully helped him to settle back to sleep. Then he lay down next to him and just like before wrapped his body around him to protect Mac from everything that was hunting him. He tugged Mac a little closer to his chest and felt Mac’s body relax instantly. That did the trick – had always done. And with that Jack fell asleep, knowing that maybe they didn’t solve what went wrong, but knowing that maybe Mac would let him get a little closer and maybe would share his burdens with Jack. Jack was more than ready to do it.


	58. Time to say goodbye

Jack entered Mac’s house and went straight to the deck where he suspected Mac to rest. After weeks of hospital, the kid has become a fresh air fanatic. Jack didn’t blame him. It’s been a lot, but they were on their slow way back to their normal. The bond Jack had been afraid to have lost, was still there. It was different, though. Stronger and deeper rooted.

“Hey kid,” Jack went over to Mac who launched in one of his deck chairs. He settled down in the one next to him. Mac didn’t look up, but stared at the horizon. He was still pale and his cloths fit loosely around him, but Jack was confident that this would change with time, too. They had to be patient.

“So, you wanted to tell me something,” Jack went on.

Mac nodded. He dreaded this conversation with Jack, because somehow he felt like betraying him, but he’s been thinking about it for a while now and the need to just leave it all behind – at least for a while - was still there. He needed to get his head straight, maybe try to stay on his own feet. But he understood that this was maybe unfair – unfair to Jack.

“I talked to Matty,” Mac started. Better get it over with, he decided. “I have a very long time of rehab and PT ahead of me and…she offered me to do it in Massachusetts,” he explained. It was harder than expected and watching Jack’s reaction wasn’t any easier. Mac could tell that Jack’s brains were searching for what has gone wrong again to make him want to leave and Mac had to admit it was hard to understand.

“Why Massachusetts?” Jack asked acknowledging Mac’s desire to get away for a while. Probably, his kid really needed some distance and space to deal with what has happened. Jack was willing to let him go if this was what Mac wanted, no matter how it hurt. But he had to make sure that this was Mac’s true wish.

“The MIT. I…could resume my studies, get my degree and Frankie has a new project I could help her with,” Mac explained to Jack hoping that he understood where this was coming from. He had to make a new life for himself at least for now. He didn’t want to stick around while the rest of the team jumped around the world risking their lives for the sake of others. He would have to watch it helplessly and he couldn’t do that. It would make him fell useless and he didn’t want them to feel obliged to take care of him. Their job was tough enough. They didn’t need him as nursing case on top of it.

“So you’re about to find out what’s more you? The Phoenix or the mad professor,” Jack concluded. He had always sensed that something was pulling Mac into the academic direction. He was just too smart to be stuck day in and out with those, who did hardly grasp what came so naturally for him.

Mac heard the hurt in Jack’s conclusion and hurt him, because he still remembered the conversation they had when the left the MIT after saving Frankie and her DNA project and he still found it was wrong. He should’ve been more insistent and told Jack that he wasn’t dumb and that Jack’s comments and contributions, no matter how much nonsense they contained, were so much more worth than the nerdy speak.

“We both know I might not have much of a choice. There’s a fifty-fifty chance that I can return to the Phoenix as field agent,” Mac pointed out to Jack that somehow it was out of his hands, too and Jack got that point. After all, the explosion had done so much damage and the Doc never got tired to point out that Mac has had a lot of luck to actually have survived it when the patience with his progress ran thin.

“That’s good. You’d be more under your own kind, that’s a good thing,” Jack replied unsuccessfully hiding how hard Mac's decision hit him. The fear of not being needed anymore, of not being enough was obvious to Mac and it felt wrong. He would always need Jack and he would always be more than enough.

“Yeah and you know that this is kinda bullshit?” Mac countered, because it was. Indeed, it was fun to talk science stuff and sometimes it was easier to have someone in front of you, who had a scientific background, because there were less explanations needed. But for this, he could easily step into one of the numerous Phoenix labs. He didn’t need to go to the MIT for that. And he definitely didn’t need to be ‘under his own kind’, whatever that was, because he already was.

“Did it ever occur to you that being surrounded by all those geeky science nerds is not exactly a walk in the park, either?” Mac asked Jack to point out that being at the MIT wasn’t exactly as easy for him as Jack assumed. Yes, Mac liked science and working in a lab, but he’s always been too close to the reality of life while his friends lived in an ivory tower far away from the struggles of real life. Mac always suspected that this had been the actual reason why he left for the Army. He wanted to do something reasonable that helped real people with real problems.

“No, not really,” Jack replied curious. He had always assumed that little bomb nerds looked for the company of other little bomb nerds to share funny little bomb nerds’ stories. It never occurred to him that those little bomb nerds that cleared the way through the Afghan desert were different from the little science nerds at an elite University.

“You can’t even imagine how exhaustive it is, to watch ‘Die Hard’ with this kind of people. I mean seriously, you complain when I comment on some impossible stunt from time to time? Those guys will start and not stop until the film is over. Seriously, they would classify half of the stuff we’ve done as impossible,” Mac pointed out the other side of the medal he was facing. Jack crunched his face.

“Ew…man, and I thought you were annoying, but that sounds really bad,” Jack replied goose bumps forming on his arms at the mere thought of spending a whole 'Die Hard Marathon' with one of these science guys. He felt sorry for Mac already. He understood where Mac was going to. HIs kid had the brains, but not the attitude. He was smart, but down to earth. He was realistic not idealistic. Jack got that and Jack understood that maybe Mac was more one of them than one of those science nerds.

“So you know what that means? No 'Die Hard Marathon', no misplaced movie quotes and no never-ending pointless stories to help me to get through whatever I have to focus on,” Mac explained the sacrifice he was about to make and he sure would miss all this, because all this was Jack. He would definitely miss Jack, but he had togo on with his life, too. He couldn't sit and wait and hope and get his hope destroyed. He wanted to be prepared, if the end it turned out that he would never be working as a field agent at Jack's side.

“But you also can’t stay here and watch us getting our assess kicked by the baddies,” Jack concluded. He sensed how hard this decision was for Mac. It wasn’t an easy one.

“Exactly,” Mac answered honestly glad that Jack got the point he tried to make.

“Well, then there’s only one way to solve that dilemma,” Jack said earning a curious look from Mac.

“Which was?” Mac had no idea where Jack was going.

“You should prepare the nerd guys for the cool guys, because there’s no way I’m letting you have a 'Die Hard marathon' all by yourself hey, and I've never been to one of those college parties,” Jack said, because he wouldn’t leave Mac alone. If Mac needed some time and space for himself, he would give it to him. If Mac needed him, he would come flying. And at the end, it was his job to make this decision easier for his kid and to show him that it was okay, if he did something on his own from time to time. 

“Besides, is Frankie seeing someone?” Jack asked with a smirk, because the first time Mac talked about her, he was definitely seeing a crush there.

“Stop it Jack,” Mac replied laughingly.


	59. Epilogue - The new agent

Jack’s frustration grew with every passing second. They were briefed for another mission in a good damn deserted hell hole somewhere in South America, but were still stuck in the war room, because their new team mate Matty announced the day before took his time to meet them. Jack was getting antsy. Maybe the fact that he hadn’t been able to talk to Mac not to mention see him, because he was working on his thesis, added to his discomfort and maybe the fact that he hadn’t heard from Mac after he had his medical evaulation. The ones he has had, hasn’t been very promising and Jack and Mac had a hard time to cope with the growing reality of Mac not returning to the job – at least not as a field agent. Jack had tried to back Mac up. He told him that he didn't care whether Mac was still a field agent or a lab rat. It wouldn't change how he felt for his kid. He also understood, when Mac told him that the thought of Jack risiking his life on a dayly basis, while he sat safely protcetd in a lab, was unbearable. Jack didn't tell him how much he liked the idea of Mac being safely protected in a lab. The upcoming medical evaluation was supposed to give the final verdict on Mac’s fitness for field missions. Since Mac hadn’t given him a call or picked up his phone, Jack feared for the worse.

“Seriously, Matty. Can’t you just send him after? I mean, while we’re waiting the arm’s dealer could be making new plans and then what?” Jack complained. He hated waiting and he hated the idea of doing this job without his kid. Seriously, he wasn’t sure whether he was capable of doing it with a new guy. He probably would have to quit and protect Mac from lab rats.

“Who said that the new guy was actually a guy?” Riley asked and sounded as irritated as he felt, because like Jack she feared that Mac might not be part of their team and it hurt. Mac’s been the one who made her part of this team, which she at some point came to call her family.

“Guys, please be polite,” Matty said trying to calm the growing uneasiness among the team when the door to the war room flew open and a rushed blond entered the room.

“Blondie, I’m glad you could make it,” Matty scolded Mac, while Jack couldn’t believe his eyes. They stood and stared at the blond with the shy smile.

“Yeah, sorry. Plane was delayed,” Mac replied.

“Oh man, I’m so glad that you’re back,” Jack said and pulled Mac into a bear hug. He really felt relieved now, because whatever has ripped through their little team the last year, it was over now and things could start to get back to normal – well their Phoenix normal. Mac returned the hug sharing Jack’s relief. There was a mutual understanding that now everything was going back to normal. A new normal, that was for sure, but normal.

“You can cuddle later, now go, wheels up in five,” Matty ordered them and they chopped up and went their way.

“Oh and Blondie, I have the results from your thesis here. You might want to explain this to me: brilliant content, but the writing-style lacks a certain seriousness?” Matty asked sternly. Mac froze in his tracks. Jack had to stiffe a laugh.

“I quote ‘that’s the only one in its substance bracket. That’s not a choice, but a lack of options?’”, Matty cited a short passage from his thesis scolding him.

“Armageddon? Mac, seriously? I’m so proud of you,” Jack said and pulled Mac yet into another hug. Seriously, Mac was back with his kind.

“I definitely have to read that one,” Bozer commented and Jack agreed.

“Guys, better get going before I change my mind,” Matty threatened them which got them going. When her team was in the air, she let herself sink into the cushions of the sofas in the war room. The family was finally back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the End! Thank you for reading this story and thank you for your kind comments. I don't take it as granted and really do appriciate each one of your comments and kudos.
> 
> I haven't decided whether I will go on writing and post another story, but if I do, I promise to do better and improve. Nothing less you deserve.
> 
> All the best and much more
> 
> =)


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